


Season 8 RE-WRITE!

by mallorysendings



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Asoiaf - Fandom, Game of Thrones (TV), game of thrones
Genre: Fix It, Other, Re-write, Season 8
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2020-03-17 03:34:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18957046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mallorysendings/pseuds/mallorysendings
Summary: So, basically I am writing Season 8 from episode three to a new ending. All that went down in episode one and two is exactly the same and MUCH of episode three is as it was depicted in the TV show, other than some subtle changes that completely change the course of the story. I feel the show did us a MASSIVE injustice to have killed off the Night King half way through the season. It was a real middle of the road let down which led into the finale which I found to be an even greater disappointment.Follow my story as I fix it episode by episode. I hope to fit it all into the same solid 6 Episode format, but it may be a 7th, episode.Again. I am starting this story at the beginning of Episode three. Much of what you read was EXACTLY the same in the show. But to seamlessly follow into a completely new Fourth episode, bare with me! And I hope this mends some disappointed hearts.





	1. The long night (Episode 3)

Starts Episode 3 

The red woman was seen lending flame to the Dothraki horde, and many felt hope soar in their chest that the lord of light would lend his aid in the fight. 

“There is no need to execute me, Ser Davos. I should be dead before the dawn.” Melisandre said simply. “We might all be.” 

Sir Davos glared and stepped aside allowing her entry inside the keep of Winterfell's inner bailey. 

As she rose on the frosted stair, her blue eyes gazed across the parapet and found two familiar round ones staring back. Their gaze held as the Dothraki criers screamed their war song, unleashing the firelight of their swords against the sheer curtain of night. Before long, all eyes were trained on the battlefield’s movement as it was joined by a lobby of flaming fireballs, which all seemed to strike an unseen solid barrier in the distance. 

The remaining army looked on in silence as the screams dimmed and the growls of the dead overcame the Dothraki horde’s war cries, till the last and final light went out. A hush fell as they waited. 

Arya and Sansa watched in horror as the dead came like a wave crashing upon the shore. Both feared the battle would be short and without hope. 

Just as they were all about to despair, jets of fire blasted down in a line across the field and the onlookers watched in awe as the army of the dead was bathed in flame. A second stream of fire rained down on the mass and all thanked the gods for dragons that night as the clash of blades sung.  
The dragons dipped and banked shallowly, their wing tips grazed the battlements as they painted a masterpiece of flame on the battlefield below. 

Arya was watching the dance of dragons overhead, seeing a black cloud forming behind them and she turned to Sansa. 

“Get down to the Crypt,” she ordered. 

Sansa looked past her sister in brief horror, then looked at her defiantly. “I’m not abandoning my people.” 

Arya pulled an obsidian blade from her side. “Take this and go.” she dismissed her protest by simply ordering her to leave again. 

Sansa lifted her hand and took the raw blade from her. “I don’t know how to use it,” she said seriously. 

Arya nodded slightly, tears and fear shadowing the edges of her eyes. “Stick them with the pointy end,” she said as brightly as she could. 

Sansa nodded nervously. She had never seen her sister scared, and it made her all the more fearful so she did as she had been bid. 

The victory of the dragons was short lived as an icy blast nearly felled the army of the living where it stood, as breath would blow out a candle, the fires from the dragons dimmed and went out in places from the wind of cold death.  
The army outside of the walls sounded the retreat almost as soon as the battle had begun, and the gates opened to allow the living to fill the outer bailey. 

Lady Mormont managed the entry, bravely ordering her men to help the survivors inside while the Unsullied guarded those that left the field. 

 

—-

The dragon fire had ceased after the icy blast, but resumed to help the Unsullied hold against the enemy forces. Blankets of flame descended as one beast flew overhead to the Weirwood tree where Bran was waiting. 

Ser Davos waved his torches for the dragon riders to light the trench, but the dragons had gone again. Their signal was unable to be seen through the thick smoke and billowing clouds of snow. 

“Light the trench!” shouts rang out as the men struggled to set the pitch and wood trench to fire. 

Flaming arrows soared through the air and found their mark with a dissatisfying thunk before the weak flames went out. 

The red woman appeared again at the gate and the remaining Unsullied moved out in a formation to provide a protective path for her to follow. 

Melisandre placed her hands down upon the cold frozen wood and breathed in deep, channeling the Lord she served. 

“Aye ex yo sonyo elon me-esias.” she chanted her voice clear and strong. “Aye ex yo sonyo elon me-esias.” her voice confident against the screams and fighting of the army surrounding her. “Aye ex yo sonyo elon me-esias. Aye ex yo sonyo elon me-esias.” with every repeat her faith wavered and the screams grew louder as she tried to focus harder. 

She implored the lord of light to not abandon them. “Aye ex yo sonyo elon me-esias. Aye ex yo sonyo elon me-esias. Aye ex yo sonyo elon me-esias. Aye ex yo sonyo elon me-esias.” Death was closer to her than it had ever been before. 

“Aye ex yo sonyo elon me-esias. Aye ex yo sonyo elon me-esias.” her voice a desperate plea to be answered. “Aye ex yo sonyo elon me-esias.” Had she again lost his favor? 

“Aye ex yo sonyo elon me-esias.” she said in final desperate demand, and flames jumped from her hands and infused itself through the trench instantly, illuminating cold blue eyes coming right for her which was consumed by her lord of light who had not abandoned them. 

With the trench alight, Dany upon Drogon’s back could see through the storm and smoke. Moving down into a dive again to torch the field and save her people was her only focus. 

———  
Varys sighed as he listened to the babe in arms cry. “At least we’re already in a crypt.” 

Tyrion drank deeply from his wine. “The Crypts… who’s bright idea was it to hide in a grave when the dead have arisen?” 

Sansa rolled her eyes. “It’s the safest place for us.” 

Tryion looked around. “Just how many of your dead do you keep down here Lady Sansa?” 

She stiffened. “The important ones for thousands of years.” 

Tyrion looked around. “So a few thousand dead Starks against all of us.” he sat down clumsily. 

“Women, children, eunuchs, and imps against the army of dead Starks.” he paused drinking deeply. “I don’t much like those odds.” 

Taking Tyrion’s wineskin she rolled her eyes again. “We are better off down here than up there,” she said and then drank a small sip. 

He shrugged. “I don’t know. If I were up there, maybe I could do something, see something that makes a difference.” 

Varys sighed loudly. 

“What? Remember the battle of Black Water? I brought us through the Mud Gate.” Tyrion said, defending his war planning and top-notch strategy. 

“And got your face cut in half,” Varys added sarcastically. 

“And it made a difference.” Tyrion finished. “If I was out there right now…” 

“You’d die,” Sansa said simply. Her voice rang with a chilling finality. “There’s nothing you can do.” 

Tyrion shifted in his stool and took back his wineskin. “You might be surprised at the lengths I’d go to avoid joining the army of the dead. I could think of no organization less suited to my talents,” he said lightly. 

Sansa smiled slightly. “Witty remarks won’t make a difference.” she shrugged. “It’s why we’re down here. None of us can do anything.” she hesitated a moment under the serious pensive gaze of her former husband. “It’s the truth. It’s the most heroic thing we can do now, look the truth in the face.” 

Tryion thought on her words a long moment. “Maybe we should have stayed married.” 

She looked down in fond memory. “You were the best of them.” 

He looked at her shocked and warmed. “What a terrifying thought.” 

Her smile fell after looking at him a long while. “It wouldn’t work between us.” 

Tyrion looked up at the ceiling nervous of the topic. “Why not?” 

She shook her head lightly. “The Dragon Queen. Your divided loyalties would become a problem.” 

“Yes, without the dragon queen there would be no problem at all,” Missandei commented from the shadow. “We’d all be dead already.” 

—— 

In the god’s wood, Theon and his Ironmen stood in watch.  
“They lit the trench,” he said. 

Ash and snow fell heavily around them while Theon thought of a different battle he once waged against Winterfell, and his heart fell in memory. 

Bran looked down to the coiled rope near the base of the tree. “I am going to need that,” he said as he pointed toward it. 

Following the line of sight, Theon went to fetch the coil. As he handed it to Bran, he felt the tears well in his eyes. 

“Bran, I just want you to know…I wish the things I did-,” he started. 

Bran knowing his grief and pain spoke. “Everything you did brought you to where you are now.” their gaze held for a long moment. “Where you belong. Home.” 

Theon felt regret and sadness well inside of him, but also he felt the truth to the word home. He only felt home here, in Winterfell. 

“What do you need the rope for?” Theon asked. 

“I need to be secured,” he said, and Theon went to tie him in weaving the rope through the holes to hold him in place. 

After a long pause, Bran looked away. “I’m going to go now,” he stated simply. 

“Go where?” Theon asked confused as he watched Bran’s eyes roll to the back of his head.  
In the distance, crows could be heard. 

—— 

On the battlefield, Drogon painted lines of fire while the remaining dead stood at the trench as if waiting. Then one moved forward and stepped into the flames falling over, followed by another, and then another bridging the gap between the living and the dead. 

Ser Davos looked on in horror. “Man the walls,” he said loudly. 

The surviving army within the keep moved, in a panicked need to do as they had been bid. 

Jon from Rhegal’s back perched on the wall near the Weirwood tree looked up to see the Night King on the blue-eyed Viserion flying overhead. Taking to the sky as the dead swarmed the walls of his home, he focused his intent on the king. If he could bring him down, the entire army would fall. Praying to the old gods and the new, that his people would hold the wall, and his family would survive. He took chase. 

—— 

Sam watched in horror as the dead overtook the battlements. His friends were fighting for their lives, and he was somehow still standing having not killed a single one. 

Jorah manifested before his eyes. “Get to the crypts, keep the people safe,” he ordered. The sentiment later echoed by Ser Davos from the parapet. 

Sam, dazed and confused, nodded again and dodged the blades and fire that raged around him. 

—— 

Arya had never seen this face of death before. She had thought she had known death. Had spoken to it night after night in prayer and hope. There were times she even thought of death as an old friend. Now, she knew that was not the truth. Death knew no enemies and had no friends. 

Her bladed staff had been forged better than she had ever expected, and she thanked Gendry for his attention to its durability because it had already withstood a hundred of the dead and was still sharp as it sliced and whirled through the air around her. 

Her eyes briefly met Ser Davos as he watched her clear the path ahead of him. 

She could hear Beric yell from the bailey. “Clegane!” he shouted. “Clegane!” 

In her heart, she whispered to the god of death as she rolled down the body filled stairs to elude death for another minute. 

Dodging the blinded corpses who reached out for her. She had now lost her staff and she ran to escape taking a hit to the back that winded her and she turned dazed as she went to face death struggling to reach her. 

In her ear, a piercing scream sounded as she heard the thud of a giant enter the keep of Winterfell and she knew the young lady Mormont had been the one to cry. 

Rising she tried to grab her staff but the dead had taken it and she scrambled over the stones to the planked roof of the library. 

Overhead the three dragons danced in the light of gold and blue flame. 

—— 

Dany tried to outrun her dead child as he breathed his bright flames at her and Drogon’s back. To have something you love used against you was a cruel thing, and she gripped hard willing Drogon to go faster. 

And just like that, he was gone, and she looked to Jon on Rhegal’s back their eyes meeting in the light of the moon. Worry and lost hope communicated without words. 

—— 

In the crypts a knock sounded, “Open up, we need inside.” 

Varys shook his head. “No, it isn’t safe.” 

Grey worms voice rose. “Missandei, open up.” 

“Grey worm would not put us at risk. Open it.” 

Varys backed up and Gilly moved forward to help with Missandei. Cracking the door, they found Sam flanked by the remaining army which hurried down, and the women and children shifted down to make room for the hundred that filed in the narrow space. The red woman looked in horror at those innocent lives that had not seen what she had as she descended the steps. 

Grey worm went to Missandei and they embraced in a passionate kiss, while Gilly and Sam held hands. 

Sansa stood. “What of the battle?” she asked Breanne. 

Tyrion looked up waiting for news. 

Brienne shook her head. “The army has fallen my lady and we must bar the door again for good this time,” she said seriously. 

Sansa shook her head. “My sister, Arya?” 

Ser Davos shook his head. “I know not, but she fought well.” 

Tyrion shook his head. “What about the Queen, and Lord Snow?” 

Ser Davos nodded. “Still fighting I believe.” 

Tyrion shifted. “Then we haven’t fallen yet.”

Gendry moved the metal bars in place with the help of Tormund. 

The crypt grew silent again as they could hear the remaining survivors fighting above that had not made the retreat. Their screams to open the doors that pulled at hearts and some were itching to do just that. 

Tyrion stood. “We can't open the door again,” he said his voice low. 

Ser Davos shook his head. “It’s too late.” Before he was finished with his statement the screams and pleas turned to the growls of the dead. 

Everyone grew as silent as the tomb they were in. 

After a long period, cries came from the women as they realized their loved ones had fallen. 

Varys sighed. “We must hush them, or the dead will find a way in.” 

A rat squeaked out to the center of the hall. 

Melisandre stepped forward, her eyes held its wild eyes for a long moment. The flames of the torch lighting its black eyes. “The dead are already here. We must move.” 

Tyrion scoffed. “We are in a crypt woman. Surely there is nowhere else to go.” 

Sansa shook her head. “No one knows how deep, or far the crypts of Winterfell go.” she turned to face the dark abyss. 

Melisandre moved to follow the rat which soon joined another that lead the way into the darkness. “We must follow. Bring the fire.”  
The Unsullied slipped their spears through the metal pits and hoisted them up as they moved as a unit down into the maze below Winterfell. 

Varys rolled his eyes and sighed as he tucked his arms inside his sleeve. “No one told me there would be an expedition.” 

Tyrion nodded. “I would have worn better boots.” 

“And brought more wine too I suppose,” he whispered. 

Tyrion nodded and scoffed. “Ah yes. A journey like this would be made all the more improved with good quality drink.” 

Varys smiled sadly. “I suppose we shall make do,” he answered. 

“Aye, we shall,” he said following directly behind Lady Sansa. 

—— 

Arya, unarmed, reached for a dragon glass sword and readied herself. She could hear movement from behind a door. Opening it she winced at the noise it made. Entering, she backed herself against the pillar and waited. Steeling herself for another fight. 

Moving to the first shelf, she turned and tried to catch her breath thinking it safe for just a moment and she stopped when she heard some rustling to her right. Backing up from it she watched as a body moved nearby and she turned to find her cover. Kneeling down she could hear the bodies of many around her, knocking books, and scraping their swords on the floor. 

Moving silently from one bookcase to the next, she eluded discovery. Zig-zagging her way through the shelves she spun and found herself surround, but still mercifully unseen. 

Moving quickly, she crawled under a table. But the blood running down her face now hit the floor and sounded like water dripping from a spout. 

Arya knew they could hear this new sound, and they moved to find the source. From her vantage, she could see the door that led from this place and possibly to a safer place. 

Boned legs stopped their path in front of her and she held her breath, moving again like a cat, she backtracked to the bookcases to evade discovery. 

Indecision wracked her mind as she fought an inner battle to run, but good sense warred within her, knowing that if she were simply to run death would win. Looking to the table she saw a small book as if an answer to her dilemma, she tossed it across the room drawing the attention of the dead to the distraction allowing her the window to move swiftly to the door. Turning the corner, she came face to face with a bright blue-eyed corpse. 

Surging her blade up through the girl's chin in and up into the head dumped a lot of blood over her and she allowed it as she carefully brought the body silently to the floor. Stepping over the corpse, she made it safely to the other side of the door as she closed it. Her breath letting out in relief… but again that breath was short lived as the noise of the dead filled the small corridor and the door to her left blew open as if it exploded calling all the dead she had just evaded down upon her again. Racing through the dark passage she knew she was running out of options.  
A body bashed into her with the force of an ox and slammed her body through the solid wood door and she screamed out in a rage that death had finally caught up to her. It’s cold fingers scratched and clawed at her to reach her guts. 

Light moved at her and she watched as the body that was above her was thrown back with the force of Beric’s sword of flame. Winded and confused, she laid there prone. Her words lost. 

Beric pulled her off the floor as Sandor fought off the dead. Coming to her feet, she watched as Beric took a blade to the side of his ankle and cried out. 

Whimpering, she moved and ran as he had been intending her to do. 

Sandor grabbed her. “Come on,” he shouted. 

“Go,” Beric said as he fought off the following horde. 

Arya watched as he was cornered and took three stab wounds to the body and she looked down to see a dragon glass ax and moved to help the man. 

After dispatching two of them Sandor lifted her up like a sack of potatoes and hefted her from Beric who took many fatal stab wounds as she watched in horror. 

Sandor puts her on her feet again when Beric comes from behind dragging himself into the main hall.  
Helping to close the door, she turns worried to Beric who has collapsed on the floor, while Sandor hefted a bench to brace against the door. 

Arya gently lifted the man up. “You will be fine right?” she asked regretting this man was once a name upon her list. 

He smiled and shook his head. “I have died and come back many times. I think this one was my last. 

I hope it was for some greater good.” he croaked weakly. “Seems all for nothing now.” 

She shook her head. “You saved me. I would have died.” 

He nodded and looked past her to Sandor, then lingeringly back to her. “Then let this stand for something.” He said as the light dimmed from his eyes and he slowly looked down as the strength left him. 

Arya felt her self turn to steel and she rose up slowly. “The lord of light brought him back for a purpose?” she asked Sandor. “Isn't that what they say?” 

Sandor grunted and looked around the room anxiously. “It’s all cock scum if you ask me. Where is the lord of light now?” he asked. “Where is any god for that matter?” He shook his head. “It’s just death,” he said as the door began to shake and they watched and waited till the horde would come and join them. 

Arya stood her spine ramrod straight. “The god of death is here.” she turned to look at the hound. 

“And what do we say to the god of death?” she asked. 

Sandor spat. “Suck a bloody cock?” 

Arya shook her head. “No, not today,” she answered as she turned leaving him facing the door. 

“Where you going girl?” he asked. Looking back to the door he cursed. “Oh hair of a bitches cunt,” he said moving to follow. “Wait for me.” 

—— 

Blue fire blasted at the wall of Winterfell as blue-eyed Viserion expelled his flame allowing more of his army to enter at once. Jon who had finally caught up to him went at him unaware and Rhegal bit and tore at his dead sibling ripping flesh from bone as they both tore deeply at one another. 

Below, Theon watched as the aerial battle overhead raged low, just above the branches of the Weir Tree. 

Jon on the back of Rhegal cried out as Viserion was able to pull his own cloak from his back. He almost lost his grip in his surprise. 

Rhegal had managed to spin himself and lock onto his dead brother's face and ripped one-third of Viserions jaw off. The broken mouth sprit flames as it again tried to bite and claw Jon from Rhegal’s back. 

The Night King pulled out his iced javelin and poised himself to kill his dragon. Just before he could release it, Dany and Drogon flew in and knocked the Night king off the dragon, causing him to fall from a great height. 

Jon hung on as Rhegal took a steep dive and seemed to have trouble maintaining flight. Abruptly, his dragon found the ground and struggled not to crash as it galloped to a stop, but in the end lost footing and collapsed, sending Jon tumbling. 

Once he struggled to his feet, he hurried to close the distance. 

Dany looked for the fallen Night King and before long both her and Drogon found him. He stood unhurt challenging her to do her worst. 

“Dracarys” she said. 

Instantly Drogon rained a jet of fire upon him as Dany glared and willed him to be naught but ash.  
Jon ambled over to the fire show and both waited anxiously for the smoke and fire to clear. 

Dany soon saw cold blue eyes staring back at her through the flames, and she found that he was immune to flame, unlike the others. Horrified, she watched as he bent low to pick up his iced javelin and then she turned and dove off, climbing steeply to prevent her from losing another child. 

Jon sighed relieved to see it miss and stood in shock a moment as he watched the Night King to simply stroll across the battlefield following the path of the torched ground moving with intent toward the keep. Racing now to catch up, he tried to stay low and unseen, but he needed to cover a lot of ground. Soon he slowed and turned his head. Their eyes met as the king turned fully around to  
face him. He was still yards from him as he had been unable to close the distance. Slowing he waited, unsure of how to engage. 

Silently, the king raised his hands as he had done on the pier at Hardhome. Knowing that this would raise the dead on the field, he raced now hard to close the gap. Bodies opened their eyes and cracked and jerked as their broken limbs reanimated. But before he could reach him the dead closed ranks and stood. Not yet attacking. 

Panting Jon turned full circle to see that he was completely vulnerable and surrounded. 

The Night King turned as if mildly inconvenienced and left as the dead closed in. He hacked away at them without much hope. It was in Theon’s hands now as the dead throughout Winterfell rose and stood. 

—— 

Sansa screamed as the stone to her left shattered and a hand reached out. Gendry swung his mighty dragon glass ax through it impaling the risen corpse. Others screamed as the dead started clawing their way out of the walls. 

Grey worm directed the Unsullied in Valyrian. They closed in the area and defended the center and dispatched the dead in their area quickly, but from behind and ahead of them they could hear more emerging from their tombs. 

Sansa reached for Tyrion’s hand and squeezed it. “I have always been afraid of these crypts.” 

He smiled and squeezed her hand back. “I can't imagine why.” 

She smiled as she found the Unsullied doing well to keep the dead at bay. 

Tyrion looked up as their army faced the horrors. “I would wager our odds as mildly improved with them down here now if we can find a way out.” 

Sansa blinked and shook her head. “I never heard of a way out, but this place is thousands of years old. The deeper you go the older it is.” 

Their movement was slowed significantly as they fought off the more recently dead Starks. 

“Well, starvation in the dark is not a pleasant thought either,” Tyrion whispered. 

Varys sighed heavily and looked to the red woman. “Please tell me there is a way out,” he whispered.  
She turned and bent down and lifting the seemingly tamed rat. “Creatures are not always simply that. 

They are vessels and suits to be worn.” she held it tenderly. “Our friend here will show us the way.” 

He looked on her snuggling the filthy animal with disgust. “I hope you are right,” he said simply. 

—— 

Fire rained down and Jon shielded himself from the jet covering his eyes. To be light-blinded in a night battle was not going to help him survive. He turned to find Drogon and Dany landed behind him. He looked to her in surprise. 

“Bran?” he shouted in question. 

“Go!” she answered and he ran off in the scorched path she had blazed for him. Leaving her to handle the horde of the dead that now swarmed her and Drogon. They slashed and ripped at his scales and Drogon shifted and acted like a dog trying to rid himself of fleas as Dany struggled to hang on. Trouble was she was like any of the dead that swarmed and finally she fell off along with others. 

Drogon took to the sky his body shaking and moving to throw the infestation off. Bodies fell hard to the ground as he successfully shed them. Trouble was when they fell they did not stay down. They rose up near her while she was still on the ground prone. 

Just as one ran to her it lost it’s head as Jorah swung Sam’s sword and moved to help his queen to her feet. She was so happy to see him at that moment she could have kissed him. 

Drogon having freed himself belched fire in the bailey, clearing more of a path for Jon because the entire castle was swarmed with the dead, and it did not look good that he would even make it to Bran. 

Hacking and slicing, he moved through the archway and managed to close a metal gate on the dead, stemming the flow for a time. 

—— 

Dany and Jorah stood atop a mountain of bodies, but the dead kept coming. Jorah was defending and shedding blood before her eyes and she cried out as he fell knowing he was all that stood between her and death. 

As he always had. 

Drogon dropped down as her champion started to falter and her child rained firey hell upon the ground around them. Slowing the onslaught. 

Dany reached down and picked up a dragon glass blade, ready to defend herself with a blade for the first time. It had never been her way, but now she had no choice. 

Taking more wounds, Jorah fell to his knees and struggled to fight on, but it was a losing battle.  
Drogon dropped low enough for Dany to climb on. “Jorah!” she called. 

He tried to move to mount but slipped. 

“Sir Jorah, I order you,” she begged. 

He shook his head. “I can’t my queen.” 

She sobbed and reached down for him. “You must,” she begged. 

He shook his head. “It has been a great pleasure to serve you,” he said spitting up blood and losing his footing. She dropped down off Drogon and caught him and she laid him out. 

“No.” she whispered. 

He looked around. “You must go.” he choked. “I will not rest easy in my grave if I do not see you get out of here.” 

He said reaching for her face. 

She closed her eyes pained. “I can’t leave you like this.”  
He sighed. “You must. I order you this time. Go.” he said as he coughed. 

She leaned forward and kissed his head. “I will never forget you.” she pressed her forehead to him. Oblivious that the dead were again moving in and Drogon would not be able to stay longer. 

With one last surge of his strength, he pushed her from him. “Go!” he shouted as he thrust his sword into one of the dead. 

Sobbing, she climbed Drogon as he wasted no time taking to the air not wanting another swamp of the dead upon him. 

Jorah breathed his last as he watched the white of her hair flying behind her. A glorious sight on a dying man's eyes. 

Her heartbreaking, she clutched and Drogon thankful to still have him. 

—— 

Around Theon, his men started to fall, and their efforts of keeping the army at bay looked to be almost over. He went to reach for an arrow and found the barrel empty. Swinging his bow, he slowed one of the dead’s advance but went flying as one tackled him to the ground. 

Struggling to get to his feet, he instead back crawled to a dragon glass spear and thrust it into its gut. Coming to his feet using the body as the counterweight he moved into action. He was now the only one standing as he defended Bran who for nearly the entire battle had been white eyed. Now they slid back and he awoke. 

Theon met the cold blue eyes and he felt a fear inside him he had not felt since he called himself Reek. He wanted to cower. To run but a voice broke the silence. 

“Theon,” Bran called. 

He turned and looked at him his hand shaking. 

“You’re a good man,” he said seriously. “Thank you.” 

Theon could not sense a hint of ridicule or malice. Turning he faced the Night King and his many followers with the lance held out in front of him. With every ounce of courage, he had remaining he let out a cry and sprinted forward to death or victory. 

The Night King snapped the lance as if it were a stick and thrust the sharp end into Theon’s gut. Looking up he met the cold blue of his eyes as he fell to his knees. 

Bran watched as the life left Theon, and his gaze simply returned to the Night King who now made his slow approach. 

Their eyes locked Bran could see the Night King reach up for his blade. 

A scream echoed, and the bright blade sang through the air and the Night King met it solidly. Jon had finally caught up. Turning swiftly, the Night king spun and Jon parried his attack. The metal meeting his iced blade rang in such a way that his ears hurt. 

Blood poured from his arm where he had taken a wound. The force of the next hit brought Jon to his knees and he struggled to rise against the inhuman strength. 

The Night King kicked at him and he went sprawling to his back. With a cold smile, he kicked at Jon’s again sending him flying back a few feet and Jon winced but braced himself with the sword to rise. 

A cry rang through the night as a shadowed figure flew through the air at the Night Kings back and Jon looked in horror as Arya was caught around the neck. She dropped her blade and surprised the Night king by sliding it into his heart but it could not sink in deeply. It had met resistance. 

The Night king looked down and smiled then back to Arya who had been so sure that it would have accomplished the job. 

She felt the pressure rise in her head as his cold hand crushed at her windpipe. She knew in a moment she would be dead and looked into his eyes and this face was the most terrifying of them all. 

Drogon screeched overhead and Rhegal moved in clumsily and knocked the Night King off his footing and forced him to let go of Arya who went to the ground with Jon. 16 

Moving to stand Jon found Sandor swinging his ax and fighting against the horde of onlookers and the others joined the fight as Rhegal breathed fire on the circle. Lighting the Weirwood aflame. 

Jon moved to Bran who he had found bound to the chair. “Seemed you might have known that you might take a ride,” he said tightening the bonds. 

Bran smiled stiffly. “Well I hoped it wouldn’t come to that,” he said as Arya joined Sandor and Rhegal in the battle. 

Drogon dropped low and landed on the wall. Shouting he yelled to Dany. “Get Bran!” he shouted to her. 

She unleashed flame upon the collection of White walkers and then moved to Bran Drogon’s claws carefully grasping at the chair from both sides without landing. The burning tree bending over by the force or Drogon’s side 

Taking off, Arya Jon and Sandor watched as the Night king again went to throw the iced javelin but Sandor knocked it out of the air. 

“Why won't you just die?” Sandor said sourly. 

Rhegal blasted a hole in the wall and Jon went to mount. “Climb on.” 

Jon ordered and both ran to grab hold of the tail, or leg as Rhegal moved to flight. 

Looking back at Winterfell, they knew the battle was lost. 

End Episode three. The long night.


	2. The refugees flight (Episode 4)

Episode 4  
Drogon dropped to land, his wings flapping as he placed Bran’s chair softly on the road, as the sun rose on the horizon. Daenerys jumped down, her eyes pink and bright from tears. 

She went to Bran who sat with his eyes white. 

“Bran.” She shook him, but he did not answer. 

She turned to watch an unsteady Rhegal struggle to find his footing on the field outside of the whitest walled city Dany had ever see. Coming to a halt in front of her, Rhegal’s voice rumbled deep within him. Her two dragons greeted each other warmly coiling their necks around her. 

In the way Rhegal moved, she knew he was gravely injured. 

Jon jumped down as Sandor clung to the dragon still at its leg. 

“You can let go now.” Arya frowned seriously to him. 

Sandor looked down below him to find the dirt was inches from his ass. 

Sandor looked up at her. “I think my arms are stuck,” he said, gripping his ax which was looped around the leg of Rhegal who had been bleeding down his leg onto him, and the blood had hardened, scabbing him into place. 

Leaning down, she pulled at his arm and helped him to let go and the dragon shifted and roared from the pain. 

Jon moved under the dragon’s necks and went to Daenerys. “Are you hurt?” he asked, looking her over. 

Dany shook her head. “No, but you are,” she said seeing his arm. The wound deep and still bleeding. “You need a physician.” her brows furrowed worriedly. 

He looked over at the gnash, “I’ll be alright.” 

She stepped back from him, “They are all dead,” she whispered. “Jorah-” she winced as Jon reached for her face and he shushed her. 

“We are alive,” he said to her seriously. His eyes penetrating her grief. 

She shook her head. “But for how long?” she said feeling his lips tenderly touching her forehead.  
“Bran,” Jon said looking to his brother and then moved to him. “Bran,” he said shaking him now. 

“He won't wake,” she said. 

Jon bent low to look at him. “He must be doing something…” looking to the city, he cleared his throat. “Need to get some rest, and send ravens informing the kingdom of the fall of the north.” 

“Where are we?” Dany asked. 

Jon stood. “White Harbor. Maybe a few day journeys from Winterfell.” 

Arya stepped forward. “We must warn them.”  
Jon turned to look at his sister, who was not really his sister, then back to Dany. “Best to evacuate from the sea,” he said recalling Hardhome. “On foot would take too long.” 

Sandor looked on the city and shrugged. “Good I get a lick of Wolf’s Den Black beer before I die.” He looked to Arya and shrugged. “Prisoners make the finest beer.” 

All of them looked to Sandor confused and Arya went to push Bran forward while Dany helped Jon to walk being he was weakened from a loss of blood. 

—— 

It was the smell that hit him first. Rising over the hill, Bronn shook his head to see the inky darkness on the horizon as smoke rose into a pitch blackened sky above the capital of the north, Winterfell. He could see the valley below swarmed with thousands of people marching as a herd  
A chill went down his spine to see a dragon weaving lazy circles above, as it blew sparks of blue flame. Looking to the forest, he noticed some of the living ran on foot being pursued by the army of the dead. 

“Hey, what happened?” he asked one Dothraki that looked at him with wide fearful eyes and ran south. 

“Fiercest warriors in all of Essos?” he scoffed and kicked his horse in a trot and offered his hand to the man. The Dothraki looked at him skeptically, but accepted and mounted behind speaking low in Dothraki. 

Bronn shrugged and looked back. “You know, I haven’t the slightest idea what you are saying,” he said kicking his horse into a trot. “Let’s get out of here. Yah,” he said kicking his horse. 

He needed to get out of this country if the northern army was as destroyed as it looked. 

—— 

The sky in Kings Landing was an unusual grey and Cersei shivered from the cold. Places in the palace were not as closed up as other keeps in the realm. Her room had often been open to a balcony and the breeze of late was enough for her to commission changes, replacing the beautifully carved screen doors between the pillars that once led out to a lush balcony with solid, heavy doors, and even heavier curtains. 

Euron sat up and smiled his toothy grin. “The winds are changing. My fleet shall prepare to sail to dragon stone and await signs of the Dragon bitch, if she survived.” 

Cersei shook her head. Her gaze focused on a chair next to her roaring fire. “No, we must await word from the north.” 

He stood naked and reached for the robe hanging on the chair Cersei starred down. “If they were defeated maybe there were no survivors to send word.” 

Looking up she nodded. “Perhaps. But I’m sure we will hear something soon.” she swallowed nervously. 

“Why so gloomy?” Euron asked. “You could be the undisputed queen of Westeros.” Cersei blinked back mist from her eyes. “If the Northern army is destroyed that means we are going to have to fight the dead.”  
Euron shrugged. “It’s a long way to travel, and there is no assurance they will come this far south.”  
She nodded and smiled stiffly. “I just worry for our child,” she said looking down. 

He walked forward. “News will come, and I’m sure it will be good.” 

Cersei looked forward as a knock sounded at her door. “Enter,” she said wiping the mist from her eyes. 

Qyburn moved inside. “Your grace,” he said his face betraying the seriousness of the interruption.  
Cersei moved to stand as she pulled on her heavy red robe. “Is there news from the north?” asked. 

Qyburn shook his head. “Not as yet, but there are hundreds of people descending on the capitol in fear and panic. And more are coming. They look to your grace for guidance.” 

She went out to her balcony. “Are they loyalists to the Northern army?” she asked. 

Qyburn shrugged. “They are from everywhere in between.” 

“They fear the north has fallen and come to me for aid?” she asked, looking down to find more than hundreds entering the gates. 

Qyburn nodded. “Yes your grace. We need to formulate a plan.” 

She pursed her lips. “For now, welcome them. Feed them and tell them their Queen will see to their shelter until word comes.” 

Qyburn nodded and looked to Euron, then back to Cersei. “It will be as your grace commands.” 

Euron eyed the mountain warily. 

“Sir Clegane you can wait outside.” she bid her bodyguard leave. 

Pouring a glass of wine, Euron drank it deeply. “You mean to welcome enemies into your gates?” he asked. 

Cersei took the cup he poured from him and drank the remaining contents. “I may no longer have any enemies… Remember?” 

Euron nodded and smiled as he reclaimed his cup and refilling it. “Death is everyone’s enemy.” 

Cersei looked at him sourly and waved him off. “Go… I’m tired.” 

He chuckled. “Of course. My child grows,” he said and touched her belling lingeringly. “Sleep well, your grace.” 

She gazed past him and waited till he left, and winced as her hand swept to her belly. Just a cramp. 

Moving to sit in the chair she took deep breaths as she tried to hold back the emotion of loss she felt.  
——  
Jon faltered as they approached the gates and they closed to them. 

Looking up Jon squinted. “We are here to bring news of the Battle at Winterfell,” he shouted.  
The men on the walls stood silent as an old man hobbled into view, his portly belly making it hard to see his face on the Parapet. 

“Lord Manderly,” Jon spoke his voice rough betraying his pain. 

“So the King in the North, and Mother of dragons come to our city to claim refuge?” he asked. “It is just you five?” he asked. “Where are your massive armies?” 

Jon looked to Daenerys whose eyes were full of tears looking back up to Lord Manderly he shook his head. “There is only one army now, and it is coming for this city next.” he said seriously.” 

“We have quality defenses here,” he said simply. “High walls, good fighting men.” 

Jon nodded. “The wall in the north was high too. They got through. The armies at Winterfell were the best in the known world, but they got overrun.” 

Dany stepped forward. “We only got out because of my dragons, which were still no match for what is now coming. An even larger army.” she swallowed. “We need treatment, and rest.” 

Jon spoke up. “And ravens need to be sent to Kings Landing.” 

Lord Manderly stood a moment in thought. “Until I have broken my fast and thought about the answer we cannot welcome you. But in the meantime I shall send out my personal physician.” he nodded to his man. “And as to the raves, we will send out with do haste.” 

Jon nodded. “Thank you, my lord,” he said turning and collapsing on the ground. 

Dany reached for him. “Jon.” 

He waved her off and sighed heavily. “I’ll be alright. Don’t need to fuss over me.” 

She frowned and tears stung her eyes. “But I do.” she cradled him as Arya ripped off fabric and moved in. 

“Need to stop the bleeding,” Arya said softly. “He should survive.” 

Daenerys shook her head. “Are you sure?” she looked down at Jon. “I have lost too much,” she whispered as tears dropped. 

Jon held the arms that cradled him. “I will be fine,” he promised. 

Sandor cursed loudly. “Lord Too-Fat-to-Sit-on-a-Horse must eat first before making a decision on welcoming us into his shit city. Nobles shits the lot of them.” 

Arya tied the tourniquet and nodded. “White harbor has always been more of a southern influenced city. I suppose they are more loyal to Cersei.” 

Dany nodded. “Which explains why we didn’t pass through on our progress north.” 

Jon closed his eyes and Dany winced. “Jon, stay with me.” she pleaded. 

He grunted. “Just shutting my eyes for a moment is all.” 

She smiled painfully. “Alright then,” she whispered stroking his forehead. 

Behind them, the gate opened and a handful of men rushed out to them. 

——  
The darkness seemed to close in on them. 

Tyrion sat down exhausted. “We seem to be running out of wood,” he said ripping fabric from his shirt and throwing it into the embers of one fire pit. 

Sansa winced. 

“You alright Lady Sansa?” Varys asked. 

She shook her head. “My feet hurt, and we have been waking for so long.” 

Missandei looked to Grey Worm. “Do you think it’s daylight?” 

He nodded. “Well past midday.” 

Tyrion pulled his boots off and rubbed at his own feet. “We don’t have more than an hour of firewood left to burn.” 

Gilly looked to Sam. “We’re going to die down here aren’t we?” she asked frightened. 

Tormund looked to Brienne. “Well if we do, lots of freaky things you and I can do in the dark,” he said wiggling his eyebrows. 

Brienne sighed and looked at Jamie. “I will be too busy trying to feel my way out,” she said through gritted teeth. 

Tormund nodded his eyes wide. “As long as you feel your way my direction,” he said moving closer to her. 

“How long before we start moving again?” Sansa asked taking a drink from Brienne’s skin. 

Jamie looked to her. “We can’t remain here long,” he said offering his opinion. 

Tyrion looked to the women and children. “They need a moment to rest. We will move again shortly.” 

Sansa frowned. “Yes, but then we could be in the dark and then how do you suppose we would find our way out then?” 

Varys sighed. “We could send someone to look and come back if they find it.” 

Sansa shook her head. “This place is a maze. People have tried to find their way to the bottom, or wherever it leads, only to never be seen or heard from again. Best we stay together.” 

A child screamed as it was pulled from her mother's breast and everyone stiffened in fear knowing the sound would call any nearby dead down upon them. 

A growl echoed through the darkness and the Unsullied stood with spears at ready. Footsteps pitter pattered and the group all held their breath for another attack from the dead. They had grown less the farther the went from Winterfell, but they still came. 

A rattling hunched mass ambled into the light and Grey Worm expertly speared it and it dropped in a dusty heap at his feet after a long moment the tunnel became silent again. After a time they all stood, ready to keep moving. Babies cried and begged to go to the surface but mothers could not help them.  
Tormund squinted and looked down at the corpse they just brought down. “We could burn some of the bones… If they are dry enough,” he said. 

Brienne looked at him surprised. 

He looked at her smugly. “We sometimes do that up north where there’s no firewood.” 

She looked at him disgusted and he just smiled confusedly at her. 

Tormund looked to Ser Davos. “Why doesn’t she like me?” he asked as Grey Worm picked up the large bones and fed them into the fire. 

Davos nodded and sighed. “Perhaps you’re trying too hard?” 

Tormund looked at him in disbelief. “I’ve never tried before.” 

—— 

Against the walls of the City of White harbor Sandor picks at his teeth as he and Arya both silently eat their fill. 

“What is your brother doing?” the hound asked nodding to Bran who still sat in a chair a distance away from them. 

Arya looked behind her. “I don’t know. But I think he goes places.” 

Sandor squinted. “Places like where?” 

Arya shrugged. “Past mostly.” she sighed. “At least I think.” 

He cursed and spat. “Why didn’t that dead fuck die?” he asked suddenly. “You had him, pierced him in the fucking heart. Why didn’t that kill him?” he asked. 

Arya shook her head. “I don’t know. It felt like the blade hit something.” she chewed. 

Sandor groaned. “I knew there was no way to defeat death… have better sense to just leave this place and travel to the other side of the sea.” 

Arya wiped her face sadly. “I lost my sister, Gendry… others.” 

Sandor spat. “Gendry, the blacksmith your lover?” he shook his head. “Nah, you’re not the kind. It’s not you.” 

Arya looked up sadly and thought about his statement seriously. 

Dany stood from Jon who was resting as a group approached from the city.  
“Lord Manderly has decided to shelter you if you would but lend him your dragons in the fight to defend our fair city against the army you warn us of,” he said importantly. 

Daenerys shook her head. “Even with a large army and my children, we were no more successful than you will be, even with my dragons.” 

Jon sat up. “Let us inside to speak with your lord on the matter.” he offered. “He must know that a stand against the Night King would fare better at the Capitol.” 

The servant shrugged. “Or the Queen in the south will think we are there to place your Queen on the Iron Throne.” 

Daenerys lip trembled in anger. “I have more care for human life than that of a cold sharp throne. I wouldn't have been up here fighting this war to help save everyone if I put the throne above all else.” 

Jon reached for her hand. “Dany.” he soothed. 

The servant nodded. “Wait here.” 

After a long uncomfortable time, the servant returned. “Lord Manderly has decided to welcome you. 

You will stay with him under his watch.” 

Jon sat up. “Are we to be his prisoner?” he asked. 

The servant shook his head. “Of course not my lord. But if you are here when the dead come you will be forced to help us defend our walls, will you not?” 

Arya shook her head. “We must not take shelter here,” she whispered. “They will keep us against our will.” 

Dany blinked and looked to Jon. “What should we do?” she asked. 

Jon sat up and thought a moment. “We need to convince them to leave,” he said seriously. “For if they fall it will only add more to the dead’s ranks.” 

Dany thought a moment. “You will go.” she directed. “I will stay with my dragons, and unleash fire upon you all if you keep them against their will.” she threatened the servant. 

Arya squinted at the man, trying to assess if he was going to take her seriously, and Dany turned and went to Jon. “I need you to rest and nurse that arm.” she leaned forward and embraced him. 

Jon nodded. “I will your grace.” 

She winced at him calling her that. At the moment she didn’t feel much like a queen but more like the young Khalesi at the gates of Qarth with no army, just people who depended on her. 

Standing up tearfully, she turned to leave. 

“Where will you go?” Arya asked. 

Daenerys turned and wiped her eye. “I will see how my fleet of ships fare and look for survivors along the countryside,” she told her.  
Jon struggled to stand with his good arm. “And we will try to convince the people to abandon the city.” 

Sandor scoffed. “Good luck with that.” 

Arya looked at the man as if her eyes shot daggers and shook her head. 

Jon moved forward. “Dany, be careful.” 

She looked back at him, her lip trembling. “Rest. I will see you soon.” 

—— 

Tyrion helped Sansa to sit on a stone while women and children collapsed in heaps. 

“We have been walking for days,” she whispered. “There are no more bones to burn,” she whispered, her lips cracked from lack of water. 

Tyrion nodded. “Then we shall just start burning our clothes then won't we,” he said lightly handing her his skin which was nearly completely empty. 

Melisandre looked into the flames that rested in the large alcove that housed four crypts that had recently been smashed by Gendry’s ax in an effort to find more bones or kindling. All that was inside was dust. 

“You have grown strong Gendry of the house Baratheon.” the red woman said over the dying firelight to the man opposite her. 

Jamie lifted his head in serious interest and looked to the man addressed. His eyes squinted to see features in the dim light. 

Gendry looked to her and glared. “I thought you didn’t recognize me,” he said gripping his ax. 

She smiled slightly and shook her head. “I never forget a face,” she answered. “Or what the flames show me.” she looked to Jamie who eyed her warily and looked away ashamed. “The battle of the north may have been lost, but there is still much to do. Have you not thought much of what it would be like to rule as your father once did?” she asked directing her comment and question to the younger. 

Gendry rolled his eyes and leaned his head back and shook his head. “I’m a bastard son of a king. I am a basic man of trade, not a king.” 

The red woman’s gaze held his. “There is nothing basic about you or the blood that runs through your veins.” 

He waved her off. “I am miles under the earth, and probably going to die here in the dark. What use is my blood down here?” he asked. 

She looked to his ax. “Do you remember when I took you?” she asked. “Do you know what power that is in your veins?” she asked. 

Gendry shook his head.  
“Cut your hand and drip your blood into the fire, Gendry of the house Baratheon,” she offered. “and you shall get a taste of the power inside of you.” 

Gendry looked at his ax and then his hand in thought. Ser Davos looked at him and shook his head. “The woman is mad, I would not do as she says.” 

Melissandre smiled. “I am not mad Ser Davos. Just controversial.” she looked to Varys and smiled. 

“Or perhaps we could try yours,” she whispered. 

Varys stiffened under her implication of his heritage. 

Gendry looked back to his hand in thought and after a moment he sliced at his palm, wincing at the instant sting. Holding out his fist he squeezed the blood to drip onto the embers which sizzled for a moment before all the fire pits burst into a bright yellow flame even though there was little fuel. 

“There, now it is you that is our light through the dark,” she said seriously. 

Tyrion looked in awe and delight. “We now that is settled, let’s get moving again before the power of the flames die again,” he said as his knees cracked. Before long he would be crawling through the tunnel. 

After a time Sansa eyed Gendry through short glances in the dim light and looked back to Tyrion who walked thinking deeply about the matter as well. “If we get out of here, what will happen next?” she asked him. 

Varys looked to her and shrugged. “I suppose many will run for Kings Landing, while-“ 

“Others may leave these shores entirely,” Tyrion spoke up over his friend. 

Sansa shook her head. “I never wanted to leave the North again since coming home. I would give anything to not go back to the capitol.” 

Tyrion smiled and chuckled. “The south quite suited you, my lady.” 

She nodded. “I once thought it did too, but the North is my home. Now I may never see it again.”  
Gendry cleared his throat, “I was growing to like the cold. Working in a forge is made easier when the body doesn’t overheat.” he shook his head. “Back in the south, when cooking metal you are cooking yourself too.” 

Sansa smirked thinking of him shirtless and sweat covered. It was a pleasant thought in her mind.  
Brienne stopped. “Do you feel that?” she asked Jamie. 

Jamie looked to her then back down the tunnel and put out his hand. “Wind.” 

Sansa stepped forward putting out her hand. “I feel it.” 

—— 

Arya sat sharpening needle Beside Bran. Jon was sleeping in the bed, and Sandor stretched out in a chair with his feet up on a table.  
“Can use the bed,” she commented gesturing to the little settee that rested at the foot of the bed Jon occupied while recovering. The loss of blood had weakened him a lot and he had been resting two days now. 

Sandor sneered. “Too small. It’s made for a slip of a thing like you, not me.” 

She nodded and looked to Bran. “He needs to wake up soon. It has been too long for him to go without water or food,” she said worriedly. 

Sandor shook his head. “We need to get the fuck out of here, jump on a ship and east, or as far south as south goes.” 

“I will stay with my family,” she said looking at her brother concerned. “Besides, I still have some unfinished business in King’s Landing.” 

He frowned, “Do you now?” he asked. “It’s about that list of yours ain’t it?” 

“Something like that,” she said as her hand sharpened her blade in a manner that looked like she stroked it. “Do you think anyone else got out?” she asked him referring to the battle. 

His expression dropped and he shook his head. “Only reason we got out was those dragons. If anyone got out of there they best keep running and not look to their ass.” 

Arya looked at Jon who snored loudly all of a sudden and she smiled out the corner of her face. “They will be here soon.” 

Sandor nodded. “What I have been saying all along.” 

Bran’s eyes slid back and he breathed deep. 

“Bran!” she said and moved forward. 

He coughed and licked his lips. “Water.” 

She poured him a cup and handed it to him as he took it and drank deeply. 

“More,” he said handing it back to her. 

She obliged and handed him back the cup and he drank more handing the cup back. 

“More,” he said. 

Jon woke up. “Bran awake?” he asked. 

Arya nodded. “Yeah.” she said looking at him surprised and confused her eyes wide and inquisitive “Where did you go Bran?” she asked. 

He took a deep breath after drinking down his third cup and sighed. “I was in the crypts,” he said his voice low. “Scurrying for days. I had to bring them out of the long night,” he said exhausted. 

Arya’s eyes shone brightly. “In the crypts. Are they alive up there?” she asked. “Should we go and get them?” she said feeling her adrenalin rise. 

He shook his head. “No need, I led them down here. They are not far.” 

Jon stood. “Good.” moving to the window he looked out. “Have you seen the dragons?” 

Arya shook her head. “Not since we got here.” 

Jon looked out morosely. “The dead will be here soon, and this place is not nearly as prepared as we were.” 

Bran shook his head. “They are not prepared at all. That battle will be short.” 

Jon hit his hand on the sill. “We need to convince them to leave.” 

Bran sighed. “Don’t have the time,” he said without effect. 

“I need to talk to Dany,” Jon said as he moved to the door. “I need to find her.” 

Bran nodded. “Just call to her,” he said simply. “The Dragons heed your call, as they do hers.” 

Arya nodded. “I need to get you food,” she said to Bran. 

He shook his head. “No time. I need to go again.” Bran said. “I need to figure out how to destroy him.” 

“You can do that after you eat something,” she said shoving a bowl at him. “Eat that then you can go.” 

Bran looked at her without emotion as he took the food. 

—— 

Dany flew over the land with Drogon to find food. Rhegal was injured heavily in the battle and needed rest. Up in the clouds, she took time to think about things. One thought being Jon was her nephew and the rightful heir to the kingdom. It was a hard pill to swallow. For her entire life, she listened to her brother speak of their home, and his throne. But it had never been his or hers for that matter… It was always Jon’s, or Aegon as he had claimed was his birth name. 

Briefly, when he had told her, anger burned low in her belly that he would claim such a thing. A thing she had believed was hers since her brother was killed by her husband. She had conquered cities and burned others to the ground because of what she believed belonged to her. All those pieces only fit in the puzzle of gaining the power and control to take back what was rightfully hers. Only to find out that the iron throne was not. 

Now one of her dragons had attached himself to Jon, and she felt like she was losing a child. But now it all made sense. He was a Targaryen like herself and dragons developed close bonds with people of her family. It was how she knew he wasn't lying about his identity. 

In light of losing her army and friends in the battle at Winterfell, she didn’t really feel like losing the Iron Throne was as bad as losing any of them. 

The Dothraki, which had followed her over the waves on boats they would traditionally never attempt for her, had warmed her heart only to be completely wiped out in the first wave against the dead. And the Unsullied, who followed her regardless of her freeing them to do as they pleased, had stayed by her side and fought in the battle while others retreated. Grey Worm among the greatest men she had ever known. And countless others. Messandei, and Jorah… No one could replace these people in her life. 

Wiping tears she closed her eyes and laid down on her dragons back. His body heat warming her from the cold of the sky. 

She felt a rumble in Drogon and he took a steep dive and she frowned as she tried to guide him back on course but he wasn’t listening. 

Pulling up abruptly, she found herself above the fork in two rivers flying low and fast she feared Drogon would smash into trees. She looked behind worried that Drogon had spotted danger and she panicked. 

After traveling thus for about twenty miles, he slowed and landed high on a ridge. Dropping to the ground, she pet at him. 

“Why did you bring me here?” she asked in a whisper. 

Drogon groaned and click sounds rumbled from inside of him. 

He seemed to be directing her to an outcropping of rocks and she went to it. Moving some stones she found a dark hole, so she made it wider. 

Hearing voices she listened. Recognizing a voice she felt her heart pound in her chest. “Tyrion?” she questioned. “Hello!” she yelled down the dark hole. Pushing at a large boulder she tried to move it but it would not budge. Drogon moved close and nudged at it with his massive head, dislodging it from where it was deeply embedded. She clawed at some dirt and felt a rush as she heard more voices and could see a flame far down the tunnel. 

She backed up frightened and screamed when a pack of rats ran through the gap. 

Seeing that they were clear from the hole she went back and pried at the rocks to move them out of the way when a familiar small hand grasped hers. “Your Grace.” 

“Oh my Lord Tyrion.” she smiled wide as tears coursed down her face. “I thought you were lost.”  
He climbed out as she helped him to the sunlight. 

Blinding though it was, he tried to squint to see that she was unharmed. “There’s more,” he said moving aside as Grey Worm exited and bowed to Dany then went to help the others through. 

Sansa emerged and Daenerys threw her arms around the startled stark. “Oh Lady Sansa,” she whispered as she embraced her. 

“I am well,” Sansa said. “Your grace,” she whispered. 

Dany shook her head. “They will be so relieved.” 

Sansa exhaled, afraid to breathe. “Who?” Her eyes furrowed in a serious frown. 

“Your brothers, and Arya they are in White Harbor.” 

The rest filed out and she turned to see all the relieved faces circling her.  
“You traveled underground all this time?” she asked. 

“We were led here by the firelight and the blood of kings,” Melisandre said simply as Ser Davos glared. “And the rats.” 

Dany smiled brightly as tears shimmered her eyes. “However it was managed, thank the gods.” She said hugging Missandei to her. 

Ser Davos looked around her. “How many of the army remains?” he asked. 

Dany shook her head. “You are what is left,” she said sadly. “How did all of you get to the crypts?” 

Ser Davos sighed. “When the battle was getting too heavy I called a small group to guard those in the crypts and retreated those heavily injured down to safety… I was only bringing the red woman down.  
I intended on returning to battle, but the battle got right outside the door.” 

Grey Worm stepped forward. “We must get to our ships.” 

Dany nodded. “Yes, and we must hurry.” 

“Thought I was hearing voices.” A loud and taunting voice came from above. “Tyrion fucking Lannister, oh and Jamie the handless.” 

Tyrion and Jamie looked up in disbelief. 

“Bronn!” Tryion said happily. 

“Your Grace, I think I have a few people who have been looking for you,” Bronn said looking to Dany. 

She looked up at the stranger confused. “Oh?” 

Just as she spoke an assortment of North men, Dothraki and injured Unsullied came into view. She could not count them, but it was hundreds. 

“Picked up one of them, and then soon it became a few, then just snowballed from there.” He laughed slightly. “I think they are yours right?” 

She laughed as she cried. “No they are my friends, my allies.” she grinned. “Come, let us leave this place,” she said with effect. 

—— 

Jon paced upon the hill, trying to will the dragons to come to him. Frustrated, he sighed. Thinking hard he imagined Rhegal in his mind and he tried to summon him. When he was about to give up he looked behind him to the tree line to see the beast struggling to maintain height and Jon winced as he watched the animal struggle even harder to land, his leg skipping as he galloped to a stop. 

Putting out his hand he winced. “You are not recovered,” he commented and went around to look at his leg. He could find nothing wrong with the leg so he looked up higher and found a large gash above his leg. 

“That looks bad,” he said as he looked him over more. “It’s not easy for you to fly or land right now, is it?” 

Rhegal clicked and groaned in answer. 

He patted him. “It’s alright. I’m not in the greatest condition either,” he said thinking of his sword arm. 

“Where is your brother?” he asked looking to the sky. 

Rhegal raised his head and cried out in a loud screech and moved to pace. It reminded him of Ghost when he wanted to go someplace. 

Looking in the distance he shielded his eyes from the falling snow trying to make out if the black thing in the distance was a bird. He smiled to see it was a dragon. 

Landing hard Dany jumped from Drogons back and threw herself at Jon. 

“I found them!” she said happily. “Sansa, Tyrion, Varys, everyone in the crypt!” 

Jon looked at her in shock. “What, what are you saying?” he asked. 

“They are alright.” she grinned. “They are going to our ships now.” 

Jon smiled back and pulled her back to him. “Thank the gods,” he said stroking her hair as they stood among the dragons. 

—— 

Running up the Red Keeps steps, Qyburn stopped to catch his breath before resuming a rigorous pace as he carried a small piece of paper. 

Meeting The Mountain he nodded to him as he passed. Though he had made him he only answered to Cersei and for that, he would forever be puzzled. But it wasn’t a thing that required his attention so he didn’t pursue an answer. 

Knocking, he waited to hear his queens voice. 

“Enter.” it came finally. 

Opening the door, he found his Queen at the balcony leaning over looking down. 

“Your Grace. I have word from the North,” he said sensitively. 

She turned and he noticed the blood on her hands and at the juncture of her thighs. 

“Your Grace,” he said his voice a whisper. 

She looked to him desperately and shook her head. “He can't know.” she walked to him. “He can't know,” she repeated weakly. 

Qyburn shook his head and went to his queen. “Of course not your Grace, come, let us get you into bed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this episode chapter as you can see Dany is again barred from entry into a magnificent city. White Harbor is truly beautiful according to some descriptions I found online and the TOO FAT TO SIT ON HIS HORSE, is actually a real character in the book cannon. Lol. He is not showcased in the show. Too bad. 
> 
> I always like the hound and I love writing his character.


	3. To silver linings (Episode 5)

Episode 5 

Ser Davos rolled out the map of Westeros on the table at the council meeting Daneary’s called after reaching her fleet and boarding it. 

“We estimate the army of the dead to be around here.” Brienne said motioning to the area near the fork in the White Knife river. 

Jon’s brow was set. “That is not more than a half a day march. They could be here at night fall.” he said looking to Dany’s worried face. 

Varys frowned looking down at the map. “I see no villages marked here. Nothing to slow them down I presume.” 

Sansa shook here head. “Not much in the way of villages. Just some country estates here and there, but they are largely abandoned by now.” 

“Well, couldn’t they pass White Harbor all together and head for Moat Cailin?” Jamie said pointing to the south west. “They are probably following the Kings Road.” he said looking to Bronn.

“They were, last I got a good look at ‘em.” Bronn answered scratching his nose. “The terrain is rugged, they’re not likely to come this way.” 

Tyrion reached for his wine cup. “The army might not need to, but the Night King could come here with his dragon and lay waste to the entire city so that their numbers could add to his.” 

Jon frowned and his brow furrowed in thought. “We cant remain and sit here for him to blow us out of the water either.” he leaned on the table. “Rhaegal is injured badly and I don’t think he will survive another battle at this time.” 

Dany frowned sadly thinking of her child. 

Tyrion sighed. “Is there anything we can do?” 

Dany shook her head. “I don’t know how to treat it.” 

Jon looked at her tenderly. “We will give him time to rest at Dragon Stone.” 

Ser Davos nodded. “My thoughts exactly.” 

“How long will it take for the army to make it’s way to Kings Landing?” Dany asked. 

“About a fortnight, give or take.” Ser Davos answered. “We on the other hand could be there in two maybe three days if the winds are with us.” 

Dany swallowed had and sighed. “Then we should be underway.” 

Varys face soured. “Excuse me your grace, but do you actually intend to approach a city you have been threatening to invade for the last year and expect to be allowed inside?” 

Deanarys cocked her head slightly. “I intend to defend it.” 

He shook his head. “And you also intend on defending Queen Cersei?” he asked in disbelief.

Dany straightened her spine and looked down her nose at him. “I will defend my city, the home built by my ancestors and the people within it’s gates no matter the person sitting on the Iron Throne.” 

Varys bemused expression showed clearly on his face. 

Jon sighed. “Best get underway.” 

Ser Davos nodded. “Aye my lord.” 

Dany watched them leave and she fingered the map after a long moment. “You were born in Dorne.” she said looking to the map. Her finger caressing the bottom of the continent.

He came close behind her and looked over her shoulder. “I have no memory of it.” he said sighing heavily in thought of his new found understanding of his origin. 

“You only know the north.” she whispered. “I never knew the place of my birth either, but it was not my home. The Red keep I never lived in but it felt like home with how often my brother spoke of it.” she closed her eyes. “When I close my eyes, I can almost see it.” she shook he head sadly. “And to think It isn’t my home, or my throne.” she swallowed hard and felt tears fall from her face. “I lost my home, and my family besides my brother. But you…” she turned around to face him. “You even lost yourself, from the moment you were born. Your name… Your parents. You never knew.” 

He turned her. “Dany, this doesn’t need to change anything.” he whispered. “You are still my Queen.” 

She put her finger to his mouth. “Please, don’t.” she whispered. “Just hold me.” 

Looking into her bright icy eyes he pulled her to him. “I don’t want it to change anything.” 

She shook her head. “Losing the battle changes everything. It isn’t about the Throne anymore.” She looked up to him tenderly with tears in her eyes. “And that means that I can love you and not see you as my enemy.” leaning in their mouths met and overlapped as he pulled her to him closer. She pulled at his fur and he started to do the same with her coat. 

Pulling back he looked at her seriously, his heart conflicted thinking about her as his aunt. Dany’s bright eyes met his with fear and worry. He couldn’t pull from her now…or ever. Making his decision resumed their physical relationship irregardless of who they were to each other. 

 

 

 

 

 

—— 

Arya noticed Gendry on deck and watched him coil rope and walked behind him unnoticed. Her eyes took in his form hungrily and she recalled looking at him thus all those years ago. 

“I thought you were dead.” she finally spoke. 

Startling Gendry he stumbled back and caught himself on the railing. “I uh, I thought you were too.”

Her eye brows raised up a fraction. “Did you grieve?” 

He bobbed his head as he did when he was uncomfortable. “Did you?” he asked. 

Arya’s face broke into a smile. “Some things,”

Gendry smiled sheepishly. “Looks like your face took the hardest hit.” 

She scoffed. “What a thing to say to a lady.” she accused. 

He shrugged and resumed coiling the rope. “I thought you were not a lady.” 

Arya liked his teasing. It made her feel like a young and innocent girl again. 

“I heard you got to the, uh…the Night King and you stabbed him.” he said seriously. “Almost saved the entire world.” 

She shook her head. “It didn’t work. I felt something when I stabbed him. Like something was stuck in there.” She said pointing to the spot on her chest. 

Gendry stopped and nodded seriously as he looked her over. “You are a good fighter to have survived that Battle. Probably the best in the world considering you went up against the Night King and lived.” he commented. 

She looked at him as if he was being cute and it weirded her out. “Are you flattering me?” 

He rolled his eyes and blushed. “I don’t know what to say to you now that you’re all…” he gestured to her. “and we um…” 

She smiled. “We um… do you want to…” her eyes rose, “again?” she asked. 

He looked up to the sky as the snow fell on the open sea and then nodded looking back down to her nodding. “Yeah.” he said. 

Arya smiled and turned leaving him. 

He stood bemused. 

“You coming?” she asked throwing the words over her shoulder. 

Gendry dropped the rope and nodded. “Right away my lady.” 

——

Ser Davos climbed the deck steps to the bow of the ship. The Red woman stood on the bow. “I swore I would end you if I ever saw you again.” he said his anger and hate dripping from his words. 

Melisandre turned with a small smirk on her face. “And yet I stand. The Lord of Fire still needs me to do his work.” she said seriously. “Though I know not what.”

Ser Davos looked down and nodded. “Without you, we all would have died in the crypts of Winterfell.” 

Melisandre looked up. “I was but a pawn in the game.” she said. “I will not survive this war.” 

Shaking his head. “I hope you don’t, but if you can help save the living perhaps you have a purpose after all.” 

She frowned thinking of those she did not save. Of the few she had a part in killing. “It has never been about saving the innocent Ser Davos… It has been about balance and power. When the proper balance is found there will be no need for people like me.” 

He shook his head. “I know nothing of Gods and Kings, or Queens or Fire Lord’s… I just know men, women…and children.” he said thinking of Shireen. 

“I think of her often… and your son. Fire is the purest death, though I do not think the thought comforts you as it does me.” she said sadly. 

He shook his head. “No, it does not.” 

——

 

In the hold of the ship Tyrion and Jamie sat drinking. 

“To coming out of the darkness.” Jamie said lifting his glass. 

Tyrion clinked his cup with his. “To tucking tail and running.” 

Jamie shook his head. “We didn’t have any other choice.” 

Shaking his head and drinking the entire contents of his cup he sighed slamming his cup down. 

“And now we have lost our army.” he said pouring another glass. 

Jamie shrugged. “Does it really matter?” he said slamming his own down for Tyrion to fill. 

Commotion from the stair made them turn to find Bronn with a familiar bow trained on him. 

“Oh look, it’s Sir Bronn of the Black water… What are you…” Tyrion looks perplexed. “What are you doing with that?” 

He shrugged. “This is for you, for both of you.” he said seriously grabbing a stool to join them. 

Tyrion shook his head and scrunched his face. “You’re supposed to be in the south. Why did you come up here?” 

“You know you boys are a pair of gold plated cunt’s, do you know that?” he answered. 

Tyrion frowned. “That’s a bit rude.” 

“Year after year I’ve had to shovel Lannister shit and what did I get for it?” 

Tyrion’s mood darkened. “You’re a knight thanks to me.” 

Bronn looked at him narrowly. “Thanks to me, an’ that titles worth as much as a blond hair from your brothers ball sac.” 

“Power resides where men believe it resides-“ Tyrion defended. 

“Shut your fucking mouth.” he said. 

Tyrion smiled and poured him a drink. “Why didn’t you say so in the forest, or in the council meeting?” he said delicatly. 

Bronn reached for the drink and saluted. “Wasn’t in my favor at that time.” 

Jamie scoffed. “And now is?” 

He shook his head. “No, It isn’t.” he said dropping his bow. “Just wanted to see you both shit yourselves.” He laughed loudly. “I want to get across the sea at this point with Westeros covered in the rotted dead.” 

Jamie sighed relieved. “I thought you were going to shoot me.” he said seeming genuinely hurt. 

Bronn saluted. “I was, till I saw the army headed for the South. Damn country has not a fucking prayer.”

Jamie looked serious. 

Tyrion scoffed. “You were not about to kill me.” 

Bronn scoffed. “Oh really? And you would know?” 

Tyrion shook his head in disbelief. “I always told you if anyone ever wanted me dead I would pay you double.” 

Bronn shook his head. “I’m not going back there after seeing what is coming for that mad bitch Queen. Or you if your lot happen to try to mount a defense.” He put the cup down. “I’m getting out of this dead land.” 

Tyrion poured another drink for all three. “It does seem that we are running out of options for the preservation of the kingdom.” 

Jamie shook his head. “Or the living all together.” 

“You all look a pair of long faced shits.” Sandor said lumbering down the stair. “What you drinking, Wolfs den Beer?” he asked. 

Tryion shook his head. “No Dorne wine. A good vintage really.” 

“So it tastes like noble shit and piss. Better than the gutter variety.” he said taking the entire bottle and threw it down his gullet in four gulps. 

“That was a rare third summer vintage….” Tyrion looked at the discarded bottle in shock. 

He grunted. “Ah, get another.” 

Tryion looked like he was about to cry. “Do you not understand the concept of rare?” Jamie asked irritably. 

Sandor shook his head. “I don’t give two shits if it was rare or once in a life time. I needed a drink.” 

Tyrion nodded and reached for a lesser valued bottle. “Don’t we all.” he said uncorking it and pouring out now four glasses. “Drink from your cup this time, wont you Clegane?” 

Sandor grunted and settled into his benched seat. 

“Speaking of rare… Do you remember what the Red Woman was talking about with the Blacksmith Gendry?” Tyrion said looking to his brother since he was the only other person in the tunnel with him at the table. 

Jamie looked down as if he were hiding something, and Tyrion frowned. “What, you mean her calling him a Baratheon?” Jamie asked. 

Tyrion nodded. “Well yes, some lesser bastard but a son of a king none the less.” 

Bronn shook his head. “I thought Joffery had all the bastards killed.” 

Sandor grunted. “Little twat.” and looked to Jamie and then looked down. “Apple didn’t fall far from it.” He glared at Jamie briefly. “I mean the bitch queen.” Sandor added as he poured himself another glass. 

Tyrion nodded. “Yes, but why didn’t I know before that he was a bastard of King Robert among us?” 

Bronn smirked. “You always think you know everything don’t you? That is your biggest problem you know? You always think you are smarter than everyone else.” 

Tyrion looked hurt. “I beg your pardon. I have had the luxury of being the smartest person I had known for some time. It is taking much to get accustomed to…being wrong.” he said looking slightly ashamed but playfully humorous. 

Sandor cleared his throat. “So you are telling me the blacksmith is the son of a fucking king?” 

raising his eye brows. “Yes, well… turns out his blood can do wonders.” Tyrion nodded. 

Jamie shrugged. “He is no threat to the kingdom.” his face betrayed something just beyond the light in his eye. 

Tyrion scoffed shrugging off the sense of something hidden.. “There will likely be no kingdom in a month.” 

“And that there is why I’m not bothering to kill this night.” Bronn said saluting them.  
Tyrion raised his cup. “To silver linings.” 

——

 

 

Jon and Dany lay their limbs entwined as the ship sailed on it’s way away from the White Harbor. 

A knock sounded startling them. 

“Enter.” Jon said covering his queen. 

Tyrion clears his throat as he averts his eyes. “Sorry to disturb you your Grace.” he said turning to provide more privacy. 

“What is it Lord Tyrion?” she asked. 

He glanced. “I was just wanting to inquire if you were already away of the blacksmith Gendry’s parentage?” 

She frowned. “Why?” 

He cleared his throat. “Well it seems he is the bastard son of King Robert Baratheon.” 

Dany lay surprised and sat up and Jon wrapped his fur around her as he set more fully upright. “He is a bastard is he not?” she asked. 

Tyrion nodded his head. “Yes, could not be otherwise.” 

She looked to Jon and then back to Tyrion. “He would not be a threat to the ‘real’ ruler of Westeros.” she looked back to Tryion. “I don’t know that there will be a throne to war over when all of this is finished. None of us may have our lives in a matter of weeks.”

She looks to Jon and blinks lightly.

Tyrion bow’s and shrinks from the room. “I will leave you then, your Grace.” 

Dany nodded. “Yes, thank you for the information Tyrion.” 

He nodded seriously and bowed again as he left. 

“I should tell him who you are.” she said, her voice low to Jon. 

He shook his head. “Dany, I have no desire to be king.” 

Dany rose up on her knees having dropped his fur and the sheet. “My love, If I were to be Queen I would want you at my side.” 

He shrugged. “I will be at your side. I don’t need to be king.” 

She smiled pained. “If your secret then gets out someone may try to make you king. We would then be enemies.” 

He grew serious. “I never wanted to be King Dany.” 

Her eyes narrowed. “You were born to be king.” Her lip trembled. “And I was born to help you save this place and rule together.” 

“Let us not worry about that unless there is a Throne. For now it is just our peoples lives.” He said seriously. His face darkened. 

She nodded. “But Tyrion must know.” 

He sighed. “If we tell Tyrion my sisters will find out.” 

Dany put her hand to his face. “Then they will find out. It has been a secret long enough.” 

Kissing tenderly they both fell back into the bed reveling in their coupling for as long as they could. 

 

——

 

Sam sat on Deck as he looked out the the shore. 

“Do you see that line?” he asked Gilly. 

She squinted out across the sea. “What line?” She frowned looking back to him. 

He scratched his head. “I think it is some ancient beach line.” he indicated an area higher on a hill. 

Gilly smiled in confusion. “Don’t the beaches just stay the same?” 

Sam shrugged. “I looked at a book in the Citadel once while looking for useful information about the White walkers. That book had no mention of White walkers, but it talked of the sea levels rising and falling because of Ice melt. I have just never seen possible evidence of it.” he smiled then his smile fell as he looked to Gilly. “I need to talk to someone.” 

Gilly was confused as Sam rushed off to find someone. “What is it?” she asked but remained seated looking to the hill he pointed to. “It’s just sand on a hill…what is the big deal?” she muttered to little Sam. 

 

 

-  
Sam burst into the council meeting winded and out of breath. 

“Bran is still not conscious.” Jon muttered as his friend stumbled in. “What is it Sam?” Jon asked standing straighter with the interruption.

He smiled and shook his head. “Excuse me your… Grace and lords.” He looked anxiously happy. “I have an idea.” 

Ser Davos raised his eye brow as if he doubted. 

“I once read that sea levels were once much higher.” Sam spit out stuttering. 

Jon shook his head. “What has that to do with anything Sam?” 

Sam stepped forward. “We need to slow down or stop the Night King, well we can do that by flooding the Neck.” 

Tyrion rolled his eyes. “This is legend, and even if it is true we don’t possess the Hammer of the Waters like the folk of old.” 

Saking his head Sam rushed inside. “We don’t need the hammer. We just need to melt the ice.” he said quickly. 

Varys nodded. “And we do have dragons that breath fire and flame. Worth a try.” 

Dany looked to Jon. “Is this possible?” 

Jon sighed and turned to the Map where Jamie pointed his finger to the neck. “The ground around Moat Cailin is wet and there are few ways through. The kings road is a narrow path. Naturally this area would slow the Night King for a while, but if the water level were to rise it might stop him entirely.” 

Dany shook her head. “Not entirely. He still has my dragon.” 

Varys nodded. “But it is still our only option right now.” 

Jon looked to Dany. “Do you think Rhegal can handle such a distance.” 

She looked at him and nodded. “If there is no battle he will do well enough.” 

Jon turned and pulled on his cloak. “Then we must hurry. The Night King will be to the Neck in the next day.” 

Tyrion frowned. “Should we just continue on to Dragon Stone?” he asked. 

Dany nodded. “Yes, and find comforts for the refugee’s. More will likely be coming to our shores. Prepare for them.” 

The others left the room and Dany waited till it was just Tyrion behind all the others. “Tyrion, stay a moment.” she said turning to Jon. “He must know, if anything happens to me it rests on your shoulders.” 

Tyrion frowned. “What do you mean your grace.”

Jon shook his head. “Dany, think about what you are doing.” 

She smiled and went to him. “I am.” assuring him. “He should know who is the true and rightful heir of the Seven Kingdoms.” 

Tyrion squinted. “I am not following.” 

Dany smiled and looked to him. “Jon is no bastard of Eddard Stark, he is my brother Rhegal and Lyanna’s true born son. His name is Aegon Targaryen.” 

Tyrion’s eyes grew wide. “How?” 

Jon sighed and shook his head. “My mother she wasn’t kidnapped, and the war should have never happened.” 

Shaking his head Tyrion went to the wine. “I need a drink.” he said pouring it. “Robert would have killed you.” he said drinking it down then suddenly laughing. 

“What is so funny?” Jon asked sourly. 

Tyrion turned. “Do you remember when we first met I told you to wear your brand of Bastard as armor.” he laughed again. “You already were. Since the day you were born it was being used to protect you. How long have you known?” he asked. 

Jon shrugged. “Sam found evidence at the Citadel, and Bran verified it. I only just found out days ago.” 

Tyrion looked to Dany. “And how does this news sit with Your Grace?” he asked. 

Dany frowned. “I confess I was upset by it when I first was told.” she admitted. “But I love Jon, and I know he would be a good king.” 

Tyrion drank down the entire contents of the cup before lending voice to his question. “So who will now be ruler?” he asked. 

Dany shook her head. “I do not know.” 

“I have no wish to be King.” Jon said darkly. 

Tyrion laughed. “Those ones often make the best kings.” 

“We have other things to do. Let us be off Dany.” he said turning to her. 

She nodded. “I will be a moment. You go.” 

Jon nodded and leaned down taking her face in his hands as he kissed her. 

Tyrion watched him as he walked out the door. “He looks nothing like aTargaryens.” 

Dany nodded. “I expect he looks most like his mother.” 

Tryion nodded. “I never met her.” He cleared his throat. “Targaryens were well known for marrying other Targaryens.” he implied. “At least he isn’t your brother.”

Dany shook her head. “For now, there will be no talk of marriage.” she said seriously. “We must defeat the Knight King if there is to be any ruling over the Seven Kingdoms.” 

He nodded. “Of course your Grace.” 

——

Ser Davos pointed to a map. “I have consulted with the others, you must go to the west and try to melt the frozen shore there. It is thin and easily melted I would wager. Try to avoid any sightings of the army of the dead.” 

Dany nodded as she went to the railing her dragons were swimming now alongside the ship. Their wings folded down as much as possible. “Do you think it will be enough?” 

Ser Davos shook his head. “I think it is a mad plan and no idea how the it will affect the seas. But it is worth a try.” 

Jon sighed. “Send the ravens to all forts and Castles along the neck and tell them to get out now.”

Ser Davos shook his head. “No need. Last word received before the battle at Winterfell was if we fell then they would all abandon the north and go south.” 

Dany sighed relieved and looked to Jon who had a solid expression of determination. 

They nodded to each other as they took to Drogon’s back wanting to give Rhaegal time to navigate without anyone on him. 

The crew looked to the sea as both dragons rose from the water and flew back in the direction they had come. Rhegal was wobbly but just as fast. 

 

Passing near White Harbor they could see the smoke rise and they knew it had been hit. They flew low near the ground so as not to be seen by any of the army of the dead that may be near by. Guiding Drogon he wanted to see Winterfell. 

The smoke still rose but he could still see much of it in ruins and he regretted their ill fated stand and hoped this would work to stop the path of destruction. 

“So hard to see your home in ruins.” she said to him as his arms wrapped around her. 

He nodded. “If we win, Sansa will rebuild it.” he answered. 

She frowned. “Sansa?” 

He nodded. “I want her to be Queen of the North.” 

Dany grew silent in thought as she tired to imagine an argument against such a desire. But she could not. 

 

“You see that?” He whispered after crossing the wall and reaching the area close to the Fist of the First men. “There.” he pointed. 

She nodded. 

“That is the Fist of the First men.” he told her. “I was there before I turned from my vows.” 

She shook her head. “What was she like?” 

Jon frowned. He had never told her of Yigrit. “She was…strong, and wild.” he told her. 

“Did you love her?” she asked. 

Jon nodded. “I did.”

Jealousy darkened her eyes and she tried to imagine this other woman who he loved. “Do you love her still?” she asked. 

Jon closed his eyes as he held her from behind on Drogon. “Yes… But not like the love I have for you.” 

She closed her eyes as she relished his voice against her ear. 

“I think we are getting close.” she whispered. 

He nodded. “Yes, we should start.” he looked across the white land below and as far as the eye could see and he knew it was time. 

Angling into a steep dive followed by Rhaegal they unleashed fire upon the edge mountains and blasted a hollow line into the ice sheet from south moving north. The steam rose creating a fog in the air as they cut a deep fracture in the solid frozen shore. As they did so they could hear the cracking and she pulled up on Drogon with Rhegal following to have a view of what was happening. 

From above they witnessed cracks forming and then the crashing sound of a large portion of the sheet falling into the sea creating a large surge moving from the shore. 

Optimistic they flew back down to unleash more heat upon the ice. 

Once finished they flew south and Jon in passing the wall thought a moment. “Turn back.” he told her. 

She frowned confused. “Why?” she asked. 

“We need to take down the wall.” he said. 

She turned Drogon and Rhaegal came behind. Both blasted their heat along the line that span hundreds of miles. They did it in four passes creating a torrent of water that rushed out to the seas. 

“We need to go back now.” he said as the sun set on the destruction of the wall that had stood for thousands of years. 

She looked down at the remains of the wall washing away out to sea. “Will you miss it?” she asked. 

Jon frowned and looked at her as she turned. “No, it divided the people who should have been better allies.”

Dany shook her head. “If we succeed there will be a channel of water separating North from the south. It that not also a wall?” she asked. 

He sighed. “It is. But in this we have no choice, it is a fair trade.” 

She reached her hand over to his cheek. “You were a man of the knights watch… Now there is no wall. Don’t you feel lost?” 

He nodded. “But I have you.” 

She smiled and kissed him above the clouds under the light of the setting sun. 

 

 

——

 

Ravens flew above the army of the dead as it came to the neck and circled as the dead started to cross it. Many bodies sunk deep into the muck and struggled to crawl through the marsh lands. A breed of reptiles attempted to attack the army but were wiped out in short order. 

Only moving a few miles south the majority of the army tried to stay on the narrow Kings Road as they attempted to move in a line. 

The earth rumbled and shook as the animals took flight or ran in all directions. 

The Knight King who flew over head looked to the east, then to the west and he squinted struggling to see what was seemingly coming his way. His own eyes grew wide as he could see a wall of water crashing over the land barreling it’s way towards him. He looked briefly in shock as it swept through the marshland. The crashing waves a dark mucky green. 

Within seconds it was upon a large portion of the mass of bodies that were moving south. quarter of his army was wiped across the land to the east. The water accomplishing a channel cutting off the North from the South. 

——

 

 

 

In Kings Landing bells rang. 

“Why are the bells ringing?” Cersei asked Qyburn. 

He stepped forward. “The water rises your Grace. All of the streets in Fleabottom are flooded, and the water level keeps rising. I have arranged for many to board ships to evacuate to Dorne. It is necessary at this point. The city is overrun from refugees from the north and now we cannot house even the residents of our fair city.” 

She squinted as she cradled her belly. “Why does it rise. I have seen my share of storms and water has never been this high.” 

Qyburn shook his head. “I know not Your Grace, but I am trying to find out. But it rises by the minute. We may need to flee to ships. I have yours at ready.”

She shook her head. “I will not leave my throne.” turning she went to her bed and sat down. “I will not abandon this city. The Red Keep is high, and the towers are higher still. Surly the sea wont reach the heavens.” 

Qyburn sighed as if he was hoping she would see the sense in leaving. But his place was at her side and there he would stay. 

“Have you heard news from Euron and his fleet?” she asked. 

Qyburn shook his head. “I have not, but they were sailing for Dragon Stone.” 

She closed her eyes pained. “I told him to wait.” 

He shook his head. “He is not the sort to wait.” he said simply. 

Cersei waved the mountain from the room and Qyburn poured her a drink. “Here. You must stay abed for now, if the child is going to remain where it should.” 

She shook her head. “It is not to be.” her lip trembled as tears fell. “I am punished by the gods.” 

Qyburn shook his head and stroked her hair. “No your Grace, you are blessed.” 

She shook her head as she cried. “I don’t feel blessed.”


	4. Salt gods bow to the flame (Episode 6 [part 1]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is part ONE of Episode 6, which I believe was the actual finale of the show. 
> 
> Part 2 of Episode 6 was not uploaded all in one because I just was struggling to move the characters into position. I am not doing any scenes unless they are necessary. Some may be wondering why Brienne and Jamie are not well (banging) I found that although cool and well I saw it coming a mile away when they were in the bath back in an earlier season. It was just thrown together so contrived and fluffy to the point of pointlessness to the storyline (especially considering) what he ended up doing in the show! 
> 
> This will not be concluded in part 2 of episode 6. It will have a 7th episode that may also be done in the format of part one and part too. There will also be an epilogue scene. So we are almost there guys! So sorry it has taken me months to get here.

The salt wind blew Euron’s hair around his face framing it as a triton crown. He sat devilishly at the helm of his ship and smiled. “They don’t even see us coming.” he said with a glint of mischief in his eyes. His yellowed teeth showing in a wry smile. 

“I don’t see the beasts your grace.” his commander said to his left. 

Euron looked over head. “Watch for them while we sink the Dragon Queens fleet.” He said as a bolt flew from his Scorpion. The other scorpions also unleashed their bolts loaded with dragons fire and the crews went silent in wait for their onslaught to hit their mark. 

 

—————

In contrast within the creaking confines of one of the ships of the Dragon Queen Tyrion and Varys sat quietly. 

“Think of the past twenty years.” Tyrion said wistfully. “War, the murder, the misery…all of it because Robert Baratheon loved someone who didn’t love him back.”

Vary’s looked pensive. “How many others know?” he asked coming closer and sitting beside Tyrion. 

“Including us, eight.” he answered. 

“Then it’s not a secret anymore. It’s information.” he paused. “If a hand full of people know now then hundreds will know soon, then what?” he asked. 

Tyrion sighed. “She has lost the North to the dead. The Vale will likely follow soon.” 

“Are we talking the Game of Thrones, or just this war against the dead?” His serious bald friend asked. 

Tyrion sighed and grunted. “Perhaps both. Even if we had triumphed over the Night King the Northern Alliances would still be in peril. Sansa does not trust our Queen.” 

Varys frowned. “Do you?” 

Tyrion looked pensively into his cup. “My faith in our Queen has been tested of late… but yes.” 

Varys sat forward. “Would she step back for Jon?” 

Tyrion scratched his brow. “Yes, I think she would. So long as she was his consort and Queen.” 

Varys worried expression slightly lifted. 

“But he doesn’t want the throne.” Tyrion added finally. 

Varys sighed. “I’m not sure it matters what he wants…the fact is, people are drawn to him.” he said. “Wildlings, Northmen. He’s a war hero.” 

Tyrion sauntered around the cabin and leaned on the window. “He loves our Queen, and she loves him.” he thought for a long moment. “If we marry them, they can rule together.” 

Varys protested. “Well according to this new information she is his aunt.” 

“That never stopped a Targaryan before.” he replied taking a drink.

“Yes, but Jon grew up in Winterfell. Is marrying your aunt common in the north?” Varys asked. 

“You know our Queen better than I do. Do you think she wants to share the throne? She does not like to have her authority questioned.” Varys continued. 

“Something she has in common with every monarch who ever lived.” Tyrion answered. 

Varys looked serious. “I worry about her state of mind.” 

“We are advisors to the Queen, worrying about her state of mind is our job.” he looked somber. “We still have to survive the war with the dead, and hold kings landing. Maybe the Night King will win and kill us all. That would solve our problems.” He answered as he felt the ship lurch turning both of them to their sides for a moment. 

“What was that?” Vary’s asked. 

Tyrion put down his cup and grabbed the bottle. “I have a feeling we should be on deck.” he said leading the path out. 

 

Upon reaching the top deck they found green fire surrounded them. “Grey worm motioned for them to come to him.” 

“Who is firing on us?” Varys asked. 

Tyrion held on to the rails as the ship lurched again as another ship behind them was blasted out of the water. He could see the green flames and he squeezed his eyes shut against the memory of himself burning another fleet with the same weapon at the Battle of the Black water. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Tyrion said. “Cerse, or should I say Euron Greyjoy in my dear sisters name.” 

Grey worm motioned to Ser Davos. “We are not equipped for war on the sea.” 

The older man nodded. “Then we best make for land, and fair better.” he looked beyond to the shore of Dragon stone. “Water level is high. It is possible your Queen and Jon succeeded.” 

Varys held on to the railing. Fear shown clearly on his face. “So we make for land?” he asked. 

Tyrion looked at him. “You brought your sea legs did you not?” he asked. 

Shaking his head the spider shuddered. “It do not think I am going to survive this. Where is Bran Stark?” Varys asked. “He cannot swim.” 

Grey worm looked to the skiff. “You take the Starks to land, we will head them off at the docks.” 

Tyrion looked serious. “What docks. They are under water.”

Sansa joined them on deck holding a bag. Arya stood straight looking with squinted eyes to the black sailed fleet that descended upon them. Rage shown clearly on her face as she focused on a single ship she just knew housed the commander who was assaulting them. 

Just then a volley of large javelin projectiles obliterated the decks below and some people around them. 

“Sansa, my dear, come now.” Tyrion said lightly in the midst of such a grave time. 

Once she was in the boat he looked around as Varys stepped into the small dingy as the ship listed. He saw Sam and Gilly struggling to climb the ships deck to the life boat. Tyrion reached for Gilly’s hand and maneuvered her and the child to the small boat as chaos exploded around them. Grey worm was shouting orders to his men who ran around confused. 

Looking to see that no one was going to lower the boat he looked around and found the Hound. “Move aside imp.” He said sourly. “Hang on.” he shouted to the refugees on the boat. Swinging the ax as fast as he could making a criss cross motion in front of him. The action necessary otherwise the life boat would dump everyone out before it hit the water.

Still the dingy plunged stern down and nearly the entire group fell into the water. Some cling’ed to the rail of the boat. The Hound jumped down on the high end to keep it from capsizing. 

“Sam!” Gilly shouted searching the water for her child. Tyrion who had seen the bundle fall from her arms and go down just below the bow of the ship he dove. 

He hit the water but could not see well. Barnacles sliced at him as he reached and searched. Soon he found the bundle and he pulled it to him and felt a foot. Racing back to the surface he came and pulled the child up with him. 

“I have him!” he shouted to the dingy that was scrambling to help those on board as more jumped into the water swamping it. 

Ser Davos grabbed up the bundle and looked. “He’s not breathing.” He said. 

Tryion was still in the water struggling to stay afloat when another shock wave hit the fleet and everyone ducked as more javelins flew through the air. 

“Make for the shore.” a voice sounded from the deck of one of the still floating ships. 

Tryion tried to look for shore but the ships blocked view. 

—————

 

Dany looked ahead and found green smoke. It burned at her eyes and she was reminded of the stories of dragon fire. “Our people!” she said her voice choking seeing the remains of her fleet and the few survivors of the Battle they had just barely survived. 

Jon looked down and recognized the banners on the black ships. “It’s Euron.” 

Dany’s eyes narrowed and Jon felt the dragon take heed and moved into the sun followed by Rhaegal. Once high up Dany looked at the wreckage before them. Her people seemed to be mounting a land defense as Euron was beaching some of his fleet to take them all. 

The dragons dove and Jon found himself hanging onto her as she commanded all of them down straight to the ground. He realized she was making herself the smallest and fastest target. 

“Dracares.” she said with rage. 

The rain of fire poured in a line and it now mingled with the dragon fire of her own small fleet. Euron’s grounded ships were torched. 

Euron who had been descending on the survivors of the naval battle who now sought refuge on land had left his ships vulnerable to the attack. He had assumed her dragons had perished but seemed shocked and dismayed to a degree to turn back and see his own fleet had been leveled. 

Grey worm moved and took a blade to his neck as he watched his queen burn their enemies. His eyes burned with them. 

Euron laughed and watched in surprise and astonishment. “Seems I did in-fact pick the wrong side.” he said putting up his hands as he dropped his sword. 

Yara who had barely survived the attack moved to her uncle and with the pommel of her sword she hit him where the only part of him he could mourn. 

“You fool.” she said. “You killed so many people who could have HELPED!” 

Euron still breathless from the assault of his manhood winced. “Well, we were at war.” he excused his actions. 

She shook her head. “Salt and steel…Sometimes our words and our ways are so ignorant.” she whispered painfully as she glared at her uncle. Her hair was salt plastered on her face as her lip trembled betraying the raw sadness she felt.

Dany landed her Dragon only once she was sure all threats to her children were eliminated. Jon was in awe of her ability to maneuver Drogon and through Drogon she could also direct her other dragon. 

Euron staggered and gulped as they landed in front of him. Fear suddenly shown on his face. Would his end come at the hand of flames of an angry woman? Certainly the king of the sea could not be consumed by flame?

Slipping from her dragon followed by the the bastard Jon Snow he squinted but she barely paid him any heed. 

“Take him.” she said simply and walked by him coldly. Her man took him roughly. “We have bigger problems.” the queen said. Euron could see her face was flushed and she was angry. But not as angry as he had expected. 

—————-

 

Inside the great hall of Dragon stone the survivors were being tended to and more were being brought in and found along the shore. 

“How many lost?” Jon asked gravely. 

Grey worm shook his head. “Too many. We are not much of an army anymore. Only perhaps a small body guard.” 

Jon shook his head. His mood heavy despite their plan of flooding the neck seemed to have worked as far as they could tell by the flooded docks at Dragon Stone. “We were not an impressive army since Winterfell.” He looked around. “Still some survived till now.” 

Dany frowned. “Has Euron Greyjoy talked?” she asked. 

Grey Worm shook his head. “He talks but not about what we need.” 

Dany looked confused. “What do we need?” she asked. “I came here intending to conquer and stabilize this country. I still intend to do it.” she looked serious. “Who do we defeat first?” she asked. “Night King, or Cersei?”

Varys rolled his eyes and drank from the wine skin. “You and what army?” he asked sarcastically. 

She glared at him seriously. “I still have two dragons and Euron Greyjoys remaining fleet is mine.” 

“But who will sail? Seems to me we only have enough fighting men to fit in a single ship.” the Spider said gravely. “I think we are getting a little ahead of ourselves here… I would first figure out how much time we have to do either.” 

She looked to Jon, “You know this land better.” 

He nodded. “I need the map.”

Turning to follow Jon, Dany noticed her hand of the queen on the ground looking even smaller, sitting against the wall looking lost. 

“My Lord.” she said stiffly. “Are you unwell?” she asked. 

Tyrion closed his eyes pained. He had just learned from Sam that the baby who he had dove in after had not lived. The infant from beyond the wall who had survived so much had met it’s end upon the sea in such a senseless and useless act. 

“No.” he answered. “Where is he?” he asked. “Where is my sisters most recent dog being housed?” he asked coldly. 

“Euron Greyjoy? He is in my dungeon.” she said looking at the group still following Jon up the main hall stair. “I may yet need him in the fight against your sister.” she said. 

Tyrion laughed. “What for?” he asked. “He is not loved by my dear sister. She would not shed a single tear on his life or a finger to lift for it.” 

Dany nodded. “He will die. Just not yet.” she said turning on her heel. “Get some rest, I am in great need of sound counsel and I fear you may not be up to it at the moment.” she said quietly.

Tyrion watched his sovereign move away and shook his head in despair of the futility of it all. “Sleep wont do what good wine can do.” he muttered. 

Arya entered the counsel chamber serious. “Bran has awakened.”

Jon looked stunned. “He is well?” 

Arya shook her head. “He is very weak, but he cannot rest till he has told you all he has seen.” 

Dropping everything the small group rushed out of the chamber leaving the wind howling in the large windows that were held down with leather bindings, but were not strong enough to hold against the strength of the strange winds. The Red woman who was left alone closed her eyes and gasped. 

Ice was coming to Dragon Stone.


	5. Alpenglow Sunrise (Episode 6, Part 2)

Bran coughed and his eyes looked sunken. His luck in being pulled off a ship enduring a battle of the most devastating kind was a miracle in it’s self. But live he did, and was conscious upon reaching the shore but he was weak and unable to make his awareness known till people had calmed more and took time to count the dead and the blessings. 

“It didn’t work.” he whispered to Jon. “But all is not lost.” he said weakly as Messandei brought warm soup for him. He drank so weakly none of them thought he would live. Days without food or water, and then going back inside himself again they all could see was going to kill him. 

Sansa still damp and shivering stood at her brothers bedside with all the others. Eager to have some idea how he faired. 

Arya stepped forward. “What didn’t work? You have been asleep or where ever you go for days. Lot of help it’s done us too.” she chided. 

He nodded weakly. “It has.” he said. “The army is across the neck, and moving down the Kings road. People flee in their wake, but those too slow are growing his damaged numbers that are frozen in the ice of the neck.” 

Bronn swore. “Well, I’m off to the continent. Nice knowing you folks.” he said heading for the door. 

Tyrion stopped him having met him at the door. “Leaving so soon?” he asked. “You are still wet.” he observed. The trauma of the last hours rolling off him as much as he could. “Ah, Bran Stark has awakened.” 

“The neck did flood, but it seems the Night King iced it over.” Jon said to Tyrion. “I didn’t think he could cross water. He didn’t even attempt to go after me at Hard Home.” his head shook, obviously stumped. 

Dany thought seriously. “Maybe my child, Viserion was able to form a bridge.” she offered. 

Bran whispered with labored breath. “He wasn’t after you at Hard Home, so he had no need to do it then and reveal his full powers.” he stopped talking as he drank more and managed to take some weak soup. 

“Do you know his full powers?” Tyrion asked. 

Bran nodded. “A storm is coming, keep the fires hot.” he whispered. 

Tyrion nodded. “We will see it done. Best that most of us congregate in one place while the weather rages.” 

“I thought I told you to rest.” His queen said to her Hand seriously. 

Tyrion shrugged. “I think you also said you have need of my counsel so here I am.” he said simply. “So the Knight King is forging on south and should make it to Kings landing in less than a fortnight taking to his army the rest of the people in his path.” He looked serious. “Any good news?” 

Bran smiled weakly. “Always looking for the upside.” he marveled taking a weak drink. “The army is going to Kings Landing, but the Night King has other interests that lay in the center at Gods-” he closed his eyes weakly and lost the train of thought as he was slowly succumbing to exhaustion. “You will need Val-“ his voice cut short again when he fell fast asleep. 

The Hound looked to the rest of the group. “What in the Gods names do we do with that?” he said going to the window and slamming it shut as it howled. 

“The storm.” Arya noted. “Weather is going white, we need to get everyone inside and to shelter.” she said turning to Jon and Sansa. 

Dany looked to Grey Worm. “Have all survivors been found?”

Her faithful commander sighed. “We found all we could. Some may have lived but in this weather they best make it inside as soon as possible.” 

Dany looked to Jon and touched her hand to his arm. “Let us leave your brother to rest. When he wakes we will hear what he has to say.” she looked to Missandei. “Please wait on him and make sure he eats as soon as possible. He can’t die.” she said taking Jon’s hand. 

———- 

Down in the main hall there were Fire places in four corners and they warmed the wide room. Tyrion found Sam holding Gilly. He looked at the pair mournfully. “I am sorry for your loss.” he said simply. 

Sam looked up his eyes red and puffy. “I should have left both of them on the continent.” he said crying. “It’s all my fault.” 

Gilly, her own eyes puffy and red from crying but it looked like the tears had been rung out of her. “He wasn’t for this world.” he said looking to the flames. “Such a beautiful baby.” she whispered to the flames. “None of us are likely to make it through the long night anyway. At least he did not suffer.” she said. “I have lost all my family now, besides my love Sam.” she tried to say brightly but all could see the heart break.

Tyrion nodded and left the couple to mourn their beloved dead and went to join others. 

The Hound had found some ale and was drinking a barrel full to himself and Tyrion hoped there would be enough to go around. 

Varys sat silent with his eyes closed as Jamie came to sit by Brienne who sat with Gendry. 

“Welcome to our merry party.” Bronn said welcoming his friend. “Join me for a last drink for tomorrow I set off.” 

Tyrion shook his head. “Hardly merry.” he muttered taking an offered cup. “Lost so many. Now we lost our fleet.” 

Bronn nodded. “Hardly a fleet when you had to leave most of the ships in the North. At least some may have used the abandoned ships in their flee from White Harbor to go to the continent. I know that is what I will be doing. Taking one of those salt bastards ships and making my way to warmer ports.” 

Tyrion sighed. “Aye, going basically empty handed. All these years working for fame and fortune you just going to tuck tail and run?” he shook his head. “I would never have predicted that.” 

Bronn laughed. “I’m used to looking out for myself and it seems my fortunes have run dry here in Westeros.” 

Tyrion saluted him. “Then I wish you well on your journey. May it bring you what you worked so tirelessly under me, my sister, my brother, and anyone else with coin to purchase your specialized skills.” 

Bronn looked at him though hooded eyes. He knew his former master well and could see what he was trying to do and he planned to ignore the call of the coin. He shook his head. “I value my life over coin. I just don’t value other lives above coin.” 

Gendry sighed. “Coin is nothing to a friend, family, or lover.” he said quietly. 

Bronn looked at the man and scoffed. “What would you know about it blacksmith!” he laughed. “You have had little of family or lover by my guess. Not old enough, and I know you are a bastard.” 

Arya materialized behind him. “Oh he has had a lover.” she said her eyes smoldering. “He also has had family and the best of friends.” she defended, “That he would die for.” she added lastly. 

Bronn rolled his eyes and saluted them as Gendry stood and followed Arya to the shadows. 

“I guess I was wrong about that one.” he laughed as they all drank deeply then started to sing, “There once was an old prattling prat who stepped on a wailing cat.” 

Tyrion rolled his eyes. “No songs tonight. Not this time.” He said seriously as he refilled his cup. 

 

———

Gendry pulled at her arm to turn her to face him. 

“Lover?” he asked.

She looked at him seriously. “What is it?” she asked. 

“I have nothing to offer you, but if we-“ he started. 

Stepping forward silently she pressed her lips tenderly against his. “No. No talk of tomorrow, or the next.” she said. “We can do nothing right now, and have no vision of after. Only now, we can do this now.” she whispered as she pulled at his belt. He looked back at the hall and shook his head. 

“If milady will but wait we can find a bed.” he said as she freed him from his buttons and held him firmly in her hand. 

Leading him down deeper into the hall to a door she pulled him in and shut it behind her. Inside was pitch black and reminded her of the time she lost her sight in Bravos. 

He had no trouble assisting her in the taking off of her went and damp leathers which peeled off of her. He relished the sensation himself as she pilled off his own leathers and tunic their mouths dancing between their frantic hands who could see one another in the darkness. 

 

———

Jon looked out the crack in the wooden and leathered shutter. 

“Water is freezing at the edges, making strange blades and flat sharp shapes.” he marveled. “hard to see in the light. It’s not even night.” he thought being so well in tune with what time it should have been. 

Dany shed her coat and stood in a white linen shift near the fire. Her body outlined by the bright flame. She sighed, and knelt low huddling near the fire. The cold pierced her deeply and she felt a tear slip from her eye. 

Jon came near closing the covering securely tying it down tight. But the wind banged it annoyingly in the background. 

“I was born here on a night of a terrible storm.” she whispered. “I am not sure it was as terrible as this.” she said closing her eyes trying to imagine her mother in the very same room. “My mother came here for refuge much like we do now.” she said looking up to him her eyes bright and wet with tears. 

Jon dropped his sword Longclaw and swallowed hard. “Come, think not of this.” he said pulling her up to him. “We will think of something.” he said desperately knowing there was no plan. For now they rested the night, filled their bellies and count their blessings and hope that they did not freeze in their beds that night. 

The bed was close to the fireplace on account of the drafty nature of Dragon stone in the first place. They drew the drapes closed on one side and curled up together on the bed trying to bask in the warmth they found in each others company. 

Between their lovemaking Jon felt something akin to loss as he laid beside his lover. Tomorrow was not promised and the peace of their bedchamber and reprieve from the war would be short lived. Once the storm stopped they would be leaving for another battle. He could not shake the feeling that this would be the last he held her to him and he felt an ache. An ache he had felt before joining the Botherhood, then after when he broke his vows with Ygritte, and now with his Queen. He wished to be a part of a family but accepted that this was an impossibility. Dany had clearly said she could not have children. She had her Dragons. 

Kissing her brow he closed his eyes. The last time he had slept had been much too long ago. 

———

 

Euron sat tied up and chained near the fire. Not one person would speak a word to him and he was growing impatient. 

“When will I be graced with a word from our Dragon Queen?” he asked his keeper Greyworm he had heard it said by that fetching brown cunt he always had near him. 

None but Yara looked his way. He smiled and winked but she just looked at him coldly. 

He eyed the ale and wine being passed around and he rolled his eyes at the dull ache forming in his head. It had been too long since he had a drink. He needed a drink. But his hands were tied. 

——— 

 

Pacing her throne room Cersei adorned long furs over her hard leathers. Her belly small but still pronounced from her slender frame. Fog came from her breath from her mouth indicating how cold it had become. 

Qyburn entered and briefly looked to the mountain who stood with short breaths. 

Cersei looked at him her eyes wide and impatient. “Yes?” she asked. “What is it!”

Standing looking defeated, “My queen you must be brave.” he said coming close. Sir Gregor Clegane stepped forward but Cersei put up her hand to him. 

She sighed. “Tell me.” 

Qyburn nodded. “The harbor is frozen. Some ships got out in the last days but the few remaining are stuck and cannot move since the weather turned so quickly. The people who still number in the tens of thousands are still looking to you for guidance. They are growing cold.” 

She laughed madly and circled the room in her hysteria. 

“Your Grace.” Qyburn said pleadingly. “We must devise a plan and leave this place.” 

Cersei shook her head and turned to the throne. Her gaze fixated on it. “Euron will come. I carry his child.” she said angrily. 

Qyburn shook his head. “He cannot make it. I would not be surprised if the entire sea is frozen solid. He is likely stranded upon it.” 

She wiped at her eye. “So there is no word? Did he engage the usurper at Dragon Stone?” she asked. “Have we won at least that battle?” she begged. 

Qyburn closed his eyes and shook his head. “There has been no word.” he said coming to put his hands on her shoulders from behind. She was still kneeling looking at her throne. “But I have news of White Harbor, and the Vale.” he said. “They have fled. And those who didn’t were taken by the dead.” 

She breathed a deep shaky breath. 

“There is one more thing.” he said nervously. “Something is wrong with the sun.” he said. “It rose, but only briefly and it was dark again.” he said. 

Cersei nodded. “We have heard of the long night. It has happened before.” 

Qyburn nodded. “But there was something strange, it seemed to rise on the wrong wide.” 

She looked at him as if he had grown two heads. “The sun always rises from the east.” she whispered. 

He nodded. “It might have just been a trick of the light but some are saying it is a bad omen.” 

Cersei cried harder and pleaded grabbing his hands. “We are going to be next.” she dropped to the floor curling up still holding on to him. “I need poison.” she said. “Get me some.” she moaned. 

Qyburn nodded. “I will be with you till the end my Queen and if there is any need of that I will give it to you.” He said pulling out a small bottle that held a bright blue liquid. “For now, come…eat something. We have some time yet.” he said. “The weather is too bad to try to leave now. We will wait for clearer conditions.” he comforted. “The people can wait a little while.” 

He left the throne behind them as he managed to get her to her feet and he escorted her to a warmer room. 

The emptiness of the Throne room echoed in its vacancy.


End file.
